


Contract Clause

by sponsormusings



Series: Contract Clause [1]
Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Musician!Katniss, Musician!Peeta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-05
Updated: 2015-08-11
Packaged: 2018-04-13 01:10:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4502028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sponsormusings/pseuds/sponsormusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The contract was simple. Pretend to be in a relationship with a hot musician for 6 months, and the financial benefits would allow her sister's medical school bills to be paid in full - plus, she'd get a renewed contract with Capitol Records that meant more exposure. In Katniss' mind, there was only one hitch.</p><p>The hitch was Peeta Mellark.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [c_r_roberts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_r_roberts/gifts).



> This was originally posted on tumblr, and for ages I've been saying this would be a 5 parter, and it would be posted on A03 when part 5 was done. Well, I lied. 
> 
> It will be six parts, haha. But here it is anyway, because I figured I should keep half of my promise ;)

Katniss Everdeen tapped her fingers absently against her knees in a joint effort to maintain a clear head and to stop herself from wiping anxiously at her face. She didn’t want to ruin the meticulous makeup her best friend Madge had volunteered to apply for her at the last minute before she’d dashed out of their apartment, even though the likelihood that Katniss would sweat it off sooner or later was high. She was nervous, and it showed - from the way her knee jiggled, to how sweat pearled at her hairline, to the way she bit down on her lower lip, worrying it between her teeth. It wasn’t every day, after all, that you got invited - no, _summoned_ \- to a meeting with the heads of the record label. In fact, it wasn’t even every week, or every month.

In the entire time Katniss had been signed to Capitol Records, she’d only ever met Plutarch Heavensbee and Caesar Flickerman once, when she’d first signed her contract. After then, the highest person she’d ever had any dealings with was her manager, Effie Trinket. And really, it suited her just fine. She knew she wasn’t a priority for the label - she was just a regular girl who had a small but loyal following in the South. That’s all they marketed her for, and that’s all they expected back from her.

She wondered if something had changed.

Glancing up at the large framed pictures that lined the walls around her, Katniss studied some of her record stablemates, people and bands who were internationally renowned - The Mockingjays, Thirt33n, The Lumineers, even the labels latest coup signing, Taylor Swift. It was a pretty impressive roster, and the more Katniss looked at the pictures along the wall, the more nervous she became.

She was nothing like any of these people.

The wide mahogany doors to the office swung open, and a woman with long red hair and a friendly smile on her face stepped out, her mile high heels sinking into the plush carpet. She glanced over at Katniss, gestured towards the open doors. “Miss Everdeen, they’re ready for you.”

Katniss nodded, smoothed her palms along the length of her jean-clad thighs and rose to her feet, following the willowy woman into the wide, spacious office that looked out over Panem City. Floor to ceiling windows brought the city inside, while minimalist furniture with just the slightest splash of colour ensured that the view beyond was the room's primary focus. Two men sat with their backs to the view, one as stocky and robust as the other was tall and angular, one with slicked black hair that was beginning to thin, the other with a perfect purple pompadour.

They were still startling in their opposition to each other, as much as they had the first time she’d met Heavensbee and Flickerman.

“Katniss, come in, come in!” Caesar greeted, waving her over gaily as the assistant stepped back out. “It’s been positively far too long since we saw each other last.”

Katniss nodded in agreement and crossed the room, allowing each man to kiss her in greeting - _double-cheeked of course_ \- once they’d risen to their feet. “It has.”

“Very good to see you again, Katniss,” Plutarch greeted. “That last single of yours did quite a lot better than any of us anticipated. _The Valley Song_? Such beautiful lyrics.”

“Oh,” Katniss felt her face flush. “Well, thank you.”

“It simply made our day every time we heard it!” Caesar interrupted, taking his seat and crossing one leg over the other. His suit _looked_ black, but when he moved, it seemed to shimmer and pearl into a violet hue reminiscent of his hair. She fought back a smile -  she’d forgotten how much of a trip this guy was.

“Yes, I was quite happy with it myself,” Katniss said - and she was, that she couldn’t lie. Though, the better than expected success of her last single certainly wouldn’t be why they’d called her here - was it? It hadn’t done _that_ well.

She lowered herself into the seat Plutarch directed her to, a low slung chair that was surprisingly more comfortable than it looked. The small conversation area - four chairs with a glass table in the centre, topped with a platter of danishes and fruit, and carafes of water and coffee - was obviously set up to look inviting and informal, but she knew these guys were serious and powerful men. Getting comfortable was one thing; staying alert was another.

“Let’s get down to business, shall we?” Plutarch announced, glancing over at Caesar, who nodded. “You’re probably wondering why you’re here, correct?”

“Yes.”

“We’ve been tracking your progress for some time, Katniss, and while we’re very happy with your work, and with what you’re delivering for Capitol Records - well, we have a proposal for you, one that hopefully you’ll understand and appreciate the benefits of.”

“A…a proposal?” She sat up straighter, her nerves giving way to concern. “What kind of proposal?”

Suddenly, the door to the office swung open, followed by a loud laugh, and a called comment out to someone called Lavinia. And even without turning around, Katniss knew who it was. She grit her teeth, automatically sat up even straighter in her seat, and refused to give him the satisfaction of her looking at him.

_Peeta Mellark. What in the hell was he doing here??_

“Ahhh, and here he is,” Caesar called, and involuntarily, her head whirled around, doing exactly what she hadn’t wanted to do. “Peeta! We almost thought you weren’t going to show up!”

The laugh died on his lips as his gaze locked with Katniss’, and Peeta crossed the room, his bright blue eyes dimming until they were all but icy. “You didn’t tell me much, so of course I had to come,” Peeta said, his voice as smooth as honey as he stopped in front of Caesar and Plutarch, shaking both their hands before dropping into the fourth chair. “You know I love the curiosity of the unknown.”

“Of course! You know Katniss Everdeen, don’t you, Peeta?”

Peeta glanced at her again, this time almost dismissively. “Yes, we’ve met.”

“Good, good, we’d heard that you had. That, of course, might make things a bit easier.”

“What things?” Katniss queried, trying to keep her voice calm. “What’s going on?”

Plutarch rested his elbows on the arms of his chair, steepled his fingertips together in front of him. “Your last single, Katniss, garnered a lot more attention than what we expected, and we think with the right marketing, it can do a lot better. We want to re-release it in time for spring and before we do, we want to raise your profile a little.”

“But…but the song has already been released. Why would you want to do that?” Katniss was confused. While she’d heard of this happening before, and on the second release a track becoming huge, she’d never thought it would apply to someone small time like her. After all, it was just The Valley Song, something she’d written on one of the nights when she’d desperately missed her sister, when she’d wondered if her mom was working herself to the bone again. It wasn’t anything that special. “And why is Mr Mellark here? He had nothing to do with that song - it’s all mine.” She knew Peeta would hate being called Mr - and that was precisely why she did it.

“He didn’t, that’s correct. But Peeta’s got his own fanbase as part of The Mockingjays. The industry went wild when Finnick Odair and Annie Cresta eloped 6 months ago,” Caesar piped up, referencing two of Peeta’s bandmates. Katniss could remember the craziness that had surrounded that - the reveal of their long-standing secret relationship, the quickie wedding, the even quicker pregnancy announcement. “The impending Baby Odair means that The Mockingjays will be taking a short hiatus, and the Odairs have insisted on privacy during this time. We don’t want the band to lose any traction during the break - we suspect they’re on track for Grammy nominations, and we want to keep them in the public eye.”

“I still don’t understand,” Katniss said firmly. She could feel Peeta staring at her intently, but refused to give him the satisfaction of looking at him this time. “Can you please just put all of this in layman’s terms?”

“What I think they’re trying to say is that a little cross promotion for both of us at this time wouldn’t do any harm,” Peeta replied. This time she did chance a look at him, and his gaze was unflinching. He hadn’t changed a bit, not after all these years. “I’m assuming they want an arrangement between the two of us. A…romantic one.”

Katniss’ head snapped back as though she’d been punched. _“What?”_

“Peeta is right,” Plutarch said, as though what they were proposing was the most normal thing in the world. “The already established fanbase of The Mockingjays will help raise your profile, Katniss, and having a relationship with a hot, new up-and-coming artist will help Peeta remain in the public eye. It’s a win win for both of you, and what makes it all the more wonderful is that you already know each other from your childhood! _The press will eat that story up!_ ” The final few words Plutarch practically sang in glee, and Katniss’ stomach sank as she realised they _knew_. “It will be romantic and every teenage girls dream and-”

“No.” She rose to her feet quickly, had to force herself to not stomp her foot. “This is stupid and ridiculous, and I won’t do it.”

“But Katniss,” Caesar was aghast. “We’re suggesting this to help your career, to take that next step. To really make you a star.”

“I don’t want to be a star,” Katniss said firmly. “I just want to sing, and earn enough money to make sure my mom and sister are looked after.”

“This is the best option for that, I assure you,” Plutarch said quietly, but his voice held a level of steel that hadn’t been there previously. “You will be handsomely compensated, both in revenue from sales, and also from an additional stipend.”

“A stipend to play along with this?” She snapped.

“Katniss.” Peeta didn’t look any happier than she did with the offer, but something in his voice, in the way his shoulders were tense and how his palms were flat on his knees, told her she already knew what his answer would be. Funny that, after all these years, she still would. “Is it such a bad thing?”

“You want to do this?” she exclaimed incredulously. “ _Really_?? Are you insane?”

“No, I’m not,” he said quietly. “But I understand what they’re saying. This industry can be a game, and sometimes we have to play it. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but you need to think about it. In the long run…this might be the best thing to ensure your family that stability that you want.”

She wanted to yell at him, to tell him to piss off and not even mention her family. But she knew she needed to be sensible. As much as she hated the idea of it, and didn’t give two shits about fame, really, she needed to know what they were offering before she said no. Medical school and medical bills weren’t cheap - and who knew what would happen to her contract if she did say no?

“What’s the offer?” She said, her voice losing all heat as she slumped back in her chair. Almost on cue, Caesar held out a small portfolio, flipped it open, while Plutarch handed one to Peeta.

“The details are there, though we are open to making amendments if you wish, in regards to some of the…relational aspects.”

But Katniss didn’t care about that. She cared about her family, and she cared about doing what was right by them. And so she scanned through the document, barely noting a word, until she reached the financial clauses.

She almost passed out.

Regardless of how much her re-released single made Capitol, what they were offering to her to enter into a contractual relationship with Peeta Mellark was more than she’d earned in, well...ever.

_This was insane._

“This is insane,” she murmured her thoughts aloud, and looked over at Peeta. His focus was entirely on the paper in front of him, though his cheeks were flushed a pale pink that was creeping down his neck and beneath his collar. “I…I need to think about this.”

“Of course, we understand,” Plutarch said, the steel in his voice disappearing so that it was friendly and comforting again. “You have 72 hours. I would also encourage you both to discuss this offer together, as it affects both of you.”

The rest of the meeting passed in a blur, and ten minutes later, Katniss found herself back in the waiting area, the portfolio clutched in fingers almost frozen in their tenseness. Peeta stood across from her, his own folio tucked under his arm and his hands shoved in his pockets.

“Did you know about this?” she accused.

“No, of course not,” Peeta snapped back. “I didn’t have a clue.”

“Did you tell them about us?”

He glanced away. “I think I might have mentioned we knew each other once, in passing, a long time ago. But…” he trailed off, rocked back on his heels. “I didn’t expect anything like this.”

“Would you do it?” _She couldn’t believe she was asking him this._

“I don’t know.”

Katniss inhaled deeply, then let out the breath slowly, heavily. “I want to think on my own first.”

“Of course. On your own is what you do best.”

She ignored the jibe. “And then we can meet to discuss.”

He nodded. “Fine. My number is in the folio - they’ve put all my details in there. Reach me when you want to.”

Turning on his heel, Peeta said a quiet goodbye to Lavinia - the name of the red-headed assistant, apparently - and walked towards the bank of elevators, leaving Katniss alone.

And she wondered how on Earth she’d gotten to a place where she had to consider fake-dating her high school crush for the sake of her career.


	2. Chapter 2

“Laugh.”

“What?”

“Just laugh. Look at me as though I whispered something hilarious in your ear.”

Katniss leant back, lifted an eyebrow wryly at the blond man who sat beside her, his face full of innocence.

“Telling _me_ to laugh is pretty hilarious in and of itself,” she replied snottily, though she tacked a wide, toothy grin on the end that she was certain looked anything but real. She allowed what might have passed for a laugh fall from her lips, but it sounded as forced as her smile felt.

Peeta grinned back at her, all natural charm and perfect teeth. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it? And you’d rather that than have to kiss me, right?”

Katniss fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead biting down on the straw of her freshly squeezed orange juice - _god, she needed a real drink_ \- and glancing away.

She tried to ignore the paparazzi that she knew were across the street from the juice bar they’d snuck into, tried to forget about the boundless photographs and stupid gossip column entries that were bound to pop up online within the next day. Tried to forget the guy sitting next to her, drinking his own juice and encouraging her to play the fool while he whispered in her ear like he had every right to.

Some days were definitely harder than others in this arrangement.

********

_One month earlier…_

“I don’t think I can do it.” Katniss lay flat on her back, stared blindly up at the ceiling. She wished there were cracks or spots or anything up there that she could focus on, take her mind off this stupid proposal. But there weren’t - it was nothing but a plain, smooth, unhindered white, and her brain continued to be full of one thing, and one thing only.

Fake-dating Peeta Mellark.

She’d left Capitol Records and made her way back to her and Madge’s shared apartment in a daze, the folder clutched tightly to her chest. She couldn’t even remember getting on the subway, let alone walking in her front door. She was fairly certain that if someone had taken her purse, she would have been none the wiser.

She’d wondered if Peeta had been as shell shocked by it all. Whether it had even bothered him.

From what she remembered, nothing ever bothered him. Things just always rolled off him like water off a duck’s back.

Madge kicked at her foot lightly, causing Katniss to turn her head to look at her roommate, sprawled at the foot of the bed.

“Then don’t do it,” Madge said simply. “Easy.”

“But…”

“But what?” her friend exhaled, blowing a long blonde strand of hair out of her eyes. “You just said yourself that you didn’t think you could do it.”

“I’m not an actress, Madge.”

“Yeah, no shit. You’re lucky you can sing like a powerhouse, lady.”

Katniss stuck her tongue out, rolled over so she was face down on her pillow. “The mphf ftho.”

“What?”

She lifted her head, sighed. “The money, though. No matter what happens to my career, with this, Prim’s entire medical school fees are paid. Like, completely.”

Madge’s mouth dropped open. “You’re kidding.”

“I wish I was. Plus change.” She flopped over again - she felt like a fish floundering on the shore, desperate for water - and fixed her gaze back on the ceiling. “According to the contract, if I fake date Peeta for at least the next 6 months and make it somewhat believable, Prim will never have to worry about a school debt.”

Madge pursed her lips. “And what exactly does Peeta get out of it? Because, I mean, does he even need that kind of money? I kind of figured his band was doing okay.”

Katniss lifted a shoulder in an awkward shrug. “I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to him since I left the Capitol offices.”

“Then maybe you should. Seems to me he’d be a better person to speak to about it than me.” Madge tugged on the end of the bedspread absently, lowered her voice slightly. “Look, I know it’s weird with your history-”

“It’s not a history!”

“Okay, _whatever_ it is, I know it’s weird. But I know, no matter how impulsive you can be sometimes, that you want to make the right decision here. By Prim. So go and talk to him and figure it out.”

Katniss chewed on her lower lip, thought about the folder sitting on her kitchen counter. About what that folder contained, and what it meant. It took a moment longer, but she slowly, finally, nodded.

“Good!” Madge exclaimed, sliding off the bed and tugging on Katniss’ hand. “Now that that’s sorted, let’s go get some Thai for dinner. I’m frigging starving.”

********

_“Hi Peeta. It’s Katniss. Uh, Katniss Everdeen? Anyway, uh, figured we should meet, talk about this…thing. There’s a bar out on Twelfth Avenue - The Seam? My uncle owns it, has an office out the back. Figured we’d want to talk about this, uh, not in public, you know? So let me know. You have my number. In the folder. Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”_

It was possibly the worst voicemail she’d ever left in her life.

********

She’d played phone tag with Peeta for the rest of that night, until, after almost a dozen missed calls and text messages, they’d finally settled on meeting the next day at 3pm, at The Seam. Now she was seated in Haymitch Abernathy’s office, feet propped up on the chair beside her as her stomach twisted nervously. Haymitch’s obvious bad mood wasn’t helping, either.

“Playing up for the cameras, sweetheart? Not your usual style, is it,” he grumbled as he hacked away at the keyboard of his computer. His frustration was evident by every punch of a key, though she wasn’t sure if he was more annoyed with her or the liquor supplier who was getting a vitriol-laced email. “You even hate those photo shoots they make you do for your music.”

“That’s because they always want to put me in heels,” she countered.

“Still.” He glanced across at her, rubbed tiredly at his left eye. “You generally hate attention.”

“This is different.”

“How?”

She ran her tongue across the front of her teeth. “Because it’s for Prim and Mom.”

He rolled his eyes in a gesture she was sure was a family trait that she’d inherited, then leant back in his seat. “You know, you don’t have to spend your entire life supporting them. It’s good you want to. But Alice is doing fine at her work, and Prim’s scholarships-”

“Will only cover a portion.” Katniss sighed, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair and dropping her chin into her upturned palm. “I just…would hate to regret not considering it, knowing I had the chance to help Prim in this way.”

“You think she’d be happy that you had to _pretend_ to date someone for it?”

“She won’t have to know,” Katniss said firmly. “It’s just an…an advance on my re-release.”

He scoffed. “And the boy? You gonna be alright spending time with him?”

She glowered. “Peeta Mellark is nothing but an old school acquaintance.”

“You say that enough, you might believe it yourself,” he muttered. “Look, I don’t really care what you do, as long as you don’t do anything _you_ don’t want to. You’ve been more independent than you’ve really needed to be ever since you were a kid, and-”

A knock at the door interrupted him, and they both looked up to see Jo, head bartender, peep her head around the door as she opened it. Her brown eyes were filled with amusement. “Boss, some blond kid says he’s here to see you. Looks familiar, like a boy band member.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know who he is. Send the One Directioner in,” Haymitch said with a dismissive wave of his hand. Jo snorted before closing the door, and Katniss turned back to her uncle incredulously.

“One Direction?”

“Just coz I’m old doesn’t mean I don’t know shit,” he warned her, then slowly rose to his feet as the door opened again, and Peeta walked in. He was dressed casually - a pair of jeans that fit far too well not to be designer, a dark blue t-shirt that had the logo of an old band from the 70s on it, and a ballcap clutched in his left hand. The way his wavy blond hair was disordered told her he’d tried to fix it after taking the cap off, and a simple pair of Ray Bans hooked over the neckline of his shirt.

She felt like all the air had been sucked out of the room.

“Mellark,” Haymitch greeted.

Peeta nodded, sticking out his hand in greeting. Haymitch stared at it for a moment before taking it, shaking it forcefully until Katniss was certain both their arms would fall off.

“It’s nice to see you again Mr Abernathy. It’s been awhile.”

“Sure,” Haymitch agreed noncommittally. He reached over, tapped a few keys on the keyboard, before moving away from the desk. “Alright, I’m gonna go. Leave you two to sort this stupid shit out.”

It was silent the minute the door closed behind him, Peeta standing awkwardly beside the desk, Katniss still with her feet on the seat.

She wasn’t entirely sure what to say.

“I’m glad you called,” he said stiffly, the warmth he’d had in his voice for Haymitch all but gone for her. “I know we had 3 days, but the sooner-”

“Yeah, yeah.” Katniss dropped her feet the the floor. “Sit.”

His mouth turned down in a slight grimace. “Geez, I hope you don’t speak to your fanbase in that way,” he commented as he dropped into the seat. His face was blank, except for the faint twitch of a muscle in his cheek.

“They want to hear me sing, not talk,” she shot back.

“A little showmanship isn’t a bad thing, you know.”

“No one has ever complained about one of my gigs before,” Katniss countered. “Though they are a lot smaller than what I guess you’d be used to with your sold out arenas and all.”

“A fan is a fan, no matter how many are in the crowd.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Wow, you still _always_ have to be right.”

“And you still _always_ have to be argumentat-” Peeta cut himself off abruptly, inhaled deeply. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening them again, and when he did, they were a little less closed off, and his jaw had lost its tenseness. “Alright, we’ve gotten off to exactly the type of start that I didn’t want to. Can we just…talk this through like two adults?”

Katniss studied him for a moment, at the sincerity on his face and in the tone of his voice. “Fine,” she muttered. “But first, before we even talk about anything else, I want to know why you’d even consider this. What’s in it for you?”

He shrugged. “You heard what Caesar and Plutarch said. Annie and Finnick are focusing on the baby, so we’re on hiatus. And they want the band to keep some traction going, for awards season. It’s just…a different kind of promotion, I guess.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“I am,” he said simply. “Look, I’ve been around long enough now to know how it works. They know they’ve already got a done deal. They know we won’t be able to say no.”

She leant forward in her chair. “What do you mean, they _know_ we won’t be able to say no?”

Peeta scratched at the back of his neck absently. “Neither Plutarch or Caesar got to where they are by being pushovers or oblivious, Katniss. They know what they’re doing. They know that by offering you this - the money, and the re-release of your single - that you’ll be worth more to them in the long run than if they keep you small time. They see dollar signs in everything.”

“But it’s not chump change that they’re offering me.”

“In the grand scheme of Capitol Records, it kind of is. And what they earn back from you won’t be chump change either, I assure you. I heard your single, Katniss, and it was good. Really good. And they know it too. They probably realised that they missed an opportunity releasing it in the way they did.”

She ran a hand across her face, tried to ignore the fact that he’d paid her a compliment. Tried to ignore the fact that he’d obviously listened to her music somewhere along the way. “But why don’t they just re-release it? Wouldn’t that be easier?”

Peeta raised his leg so that his heel rested on his left knee. “I don’t know. I know how the _industry_ works, but not their minds. All I figure is that…well, this is your only opportunity. I don’t know if they’ll give you another one.”

“So what, you’re saying that I say yes…or else?” She snapped.

“That sounds a little melodramatic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m not allowed to be a little melodramatic after being offered a shit load of money to pretend to be someone’s girlfriend? Sure.” She rolled her eyes.

“You’re not the only one who’s a part of this possible arrangement, you know.”

“And you still haven’t really answered me as to why you’re doing this,” Katniss retorted. “Promotion is one thing, but I’m pretty certain you could get any pretty starlet to keep you in the spotlight for a little while.”

“Yeah, I’m not interested.”

“Well, it has to be something for you to be more interested in _this_ over them.”

He cleared his throat, shifted in his seat - his reluctance to share was obvious. “They know there’s a chance that Annie and Finnick might decide to go on permanent hiatus, and I can’t be The Mockingjays on my own. With this, I get assurance that they’ll still assist me with my future career goals.”

Katniss frowned. “But you guys are at the peak of your fame. Why would they want to quit?”

“We didn’t set out for the fame, Katniss. We set out to make music. And the only thing Finnick and Annie wanted more than to make music was a family. And now they’re getting it.”

“So they’d genuinely give it all up?” She couldn’t help the disbelief in her voice.

Peeta lifted his eyebrow. “Didn’t you say that _you’re_ not interested in the fame, or the big career? It’s a good enough reason for you, but not for them?”

“Yeah, but-” Katniss cut herself off, felt her cheeks colour. He was right. What she was disbelieving of them was exactly her own argument when she’d been with Plutarch and Caesar. “Fine. So you’re doing this to save your career.”

“Not save.” He shook his head. “Just safeguard.”

She folded her arms across her chest, slumped down a little further in her seat. The pros and cons weighed heavily against each other, but she knew she’d already made up her mind before he’d even arrived.

It was always going to be about what was best for Prim.

“We’re pretty much doing this, aren’t we,” she muttered.

“I don’t want you to if you don’t want to. But…I’m game if you are.” His bent leg dropped back to the floor, and he rested his elbows on his knees. “I promise we’ll try and make it as cordial and painless as possible.”

She screwed her nose up. “No kissing.”

“100% fine with me.”

Within twenty minutes they had an appointment to sign the contracts.

Less than a day later, they were unofficially official.

********

Outside of Madge and Haymitch - even then Capitol’s lawyer had almost had a heart attack knowing they were already aware of the truth - Katniss wasn’t allowed to tell a soul of the arrangement. The less who knew, the better, Caesar had told her with a wink as she’d signed on the dotted line.

She’d fought the urge to poke him in the eye.

Effie, in her usual effusive fashion, had embraced the whole scenario wholeheartedly, though Katniss was certain it was more to do with the fact it involved Peeta, and not necessarily Katniss’ career. But she’d thrown ‘prime paparazzi locations’ at Katniss until she’d finally faked a headache to go home simply to stop the incessant stream of information.

She’d laid on her sofa for the rest of the day, blindly watching television shows she didn’t even remember when trying to recall them later, and tried to contemplate how much her life was going to change.

She realised she didn’t have a clue.

********

For the first week, they did nothing, both trying to come to terms with their arrangement. They exchanged random texts - to get their story straight, to give each other little tidbits of information about themselves so that they at least appeared like they were dating - but mostly kept contact to a minimum. Not a word was uttered between them about the fact that they’d gone to high school together. That, in an unspoken rule, was completely off the table as a topic.

During week two, Peeta was photographed exiting her apartment block after an hour where they’d made awkward small talk in her living room. The next day an anonymous tip to E!News hinted that eligible muso Peeta Mellark might be off the market.

The start of week three had Katniss in the recording studio, working on new material, while Peeta hid himself away in one of the production offices to work. He got papped as he left, and even though Katniss had followed him out less than 2 minutes later, she’d been virtually invisible. They’d later grabbed coffee at a small, out of the way café, where Peeta had hidden his recognizable blond waves under a black beanie, and she’d typed out non stop texts to Madge and Prim.  They’d gotten some curious glances and double takes, but nothing more.

Two days after that, she followed three steps behind him as they walked through downtown. Cameras had appeared out of nowhere, following Peeta down the street, constantly shouting out questions to him. The paparazzi hadn’t had a clue who she was, hadn’t even realised she’d been with him, and if she’d known how crazy it would get from the following week, she might have appreciated their ignorance a bit more.

But she hadn’t.

********

“Ready to go?” Peeta’s voice broke through her thoughts, and she glanced across at him, shrugged.

“I guess so,” she muttered. “It can’t be any worse than the other day, right?”

Peeta grimaced, shifted his gaze to look out the window. “There’s not too many of them. And we can’t hide out in here forever.”

“Plus what’s the point in all of this if we’re hiding ourselves?” Katniss rolled her eyes, parroting the sentiments Plutarch had said to her on a phone call two days before.

Peeta grinned, and slid off the stool he’d been perched on, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Alright, Miss Everdeen, let’s get today’s show on the road, huh?”

Katniss moved off her own seat, grabbed her satchel off the counter and slipped it over her head, resting the bag against her hip. “Will you not call me that? Makes me feel like a third grade teacher.”

“I know,” he replied blithely, then gestured to the front door.

With a humph, she pushed past him, took a deep breath as she opened the door. Sunlight hit her first, and she closed her eyes for a moment, appreciating the warmth on her face. Then she felt Peeta behind her, his hand resting slightly on the small of her back as he guided her outside.

“Let’s go, Katniss,” he murmured, and led them out onto the street.

It didn’t take them long - the moment they were on the footpath, there were at least half a dozen cameras aimed at them. Shouts of _who is she?_ and _who’s the ice princess?_ and was _Glimmer not good enough for you?!_ rang in her ears, and from beside her, she could hear Peeta chuckling quietly.

“What’s so funny?” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

“I’ll tell you in the car,” he murmured back. Then he leant down closer to her, turned his face so that it was almost in her hair. “I’m going to put my arm around your shoulders, is that okay?”

“You’ll do it anyway, right?”

Peeta laughed, slung his arm around her shoulders. “Right,” he agreed.

They walked down the street to his Jeep to the sound of camera shutters and catcalls.


	3. Chapter 3

“So are you going to tell me what was so funny?”

“What?”

Katniss shifted her head and tugged the tie from her hair, using the long black locks as a curtain to block her from the view of the eager cameras and gossip hungry faces as they sped past. She looked across at Peeta in the driver’s seat. “Out there. When you laughed, and you told me you’d tell me what was so funny when we got in the car. What was it?” Her voice ended sharply, sounded almost brittle, and internally she cringed. She hated the fact that she sounded so defensive, but the only thing that was stuck in her mind were the shouts labelling her an ice princess. Had he been laughing at that, at her? Did he agree? It wouldn’t surprise her - she’d been decidedly chilly to him since this whole mockery had started.

_Well, considering they hadn’t spoken in about 8 years, at least chilly was a step up from complete ignorance._

“Katniss, there’s no need to be upset,” he told her gently, confirming that her tone had given her thoughts away. “I was laughing at their comment about Glimmer; it was nothing to do with you.”

She glanced down at her lap and played with the strap of her bag, hated that she’d been so transparent in her concern. “But what exactly was so funny about it? Didn’t sound like much of a joke to me.”

He laughed - the sound hadn’t changed a bit from when they were younger, other than perhaps being an octave or two deeper than she remembered - and tapped absently at the wheel as he took the next corner. “Glimmer Roberts and I stood next to each other at some party late last year - there was literally one photo of us together. Suddenly we’re dating, moving in together, planning our elopement. The Panem entertainment industry just makes me laugh sometimes, blowing things completely out of proportion.” He brushed it off as though it was nothing, but this time Katniss narrowed her eyes. She remembered that photo, had seen it in one of Madge’s trashy celebrity magazines.

“Out of proportion? I don’t know about that - you guys looked pretty cozy in that pic, in my opinion.”

His gaze slid across to her in surprise before he faced the road again. “You saw that?”

She folded her arms across her chest. “So what if I did? All I remember is that she looked like she was ready to climb you like you were a tree, she was wrapped up around you that much.”

“Jealous?” He grinned.

“The furthest thing from it.” She rolled her eyes. “But I’m telling you now, that picture spoke a thousand words, whether you wanted them to be said or not.”

Peeta shrugged. “If you looked at it properly, you would have seen I actually didn’t have a hand on her at all. She did it pretty unexpectedly; I didn’t even have time to prepare myself for it. But you’re right, pictures do speak a thousand words. So I hope Plutarch is happy with the words the photos from today speak.”

Katniss firmed her lips together, looked out the window to the cityscape that rushed past. “And if he’s not?”

“Then we keep trying. We just have to convince them all for a little while, Katniss. Then we can go back to our lives and everything will go back to normal.”

 _Back to normal_ , she echoed inside her head. Damn, she certainly hoped so.

********

Two days later, she saw their photos on page three of the latest edition of Madge’s favourite magazine, left carelessly on their coffee table, and she wasn’t sure she liked the words their photos were insinuating.

She tore the pages out in a fit of frustration, crumpled them up and threw them in the trash.

5 minutes later she retrieved them, smoothed them out and shoved them in a drawer.

********

_Pregnant and sharing a wardrobe! Peeta Mellark’s new squeeze hides baby bump under his coat._

_Heartbroken Glimmer Roberts enters rehab as ex flaunts new love._

_Childhood sweethearts! The untold romance that’s spanned almost a decade - exclusive interviews from Everlark’s closest confidants, only in the next edition of Panem Weekly._

_Duet planned? Rumors fly that Peeta Mellark and Katniss Everdeen will be collaborating on a new album. With The Mockingjays on a temporary hiatus with the impending birth of Finnick and Annie Odair’s first child, and Ms. Everdeen’s re-released single getting plenty of airplay, sources say the pair will enter the studio together to work on new material within the month._

********

Katniss shut down her laptop, scrubbed a hand across her face in exhaustion. She shouldn’t have done it - all along, she’d known deep down she shouldn’t have - but nothing could have stopped her today. Prim had planted the seed of curiosity during their quick catch up call the night before and Katniss hadn’t been able to shake the idea since. She’d tried - she’d holed herself up in her room and tried to finish a verse that just wasn’t sitting right with her. She’d scrubbed the shower down. She’d cooked herself the biggest bowl of mac and cheese and eaten herself into a coma. It still hadn’t gotten out of her mind, though.

So she’d googled herself.

She’d never really done it before - hadn’t cared enough about gossip columns or social media to even bother. But Prim had mentioned a news article she’d seen, her voice gleeful and still excited at the fact that _oh my godddddd I can’t believe my sister is dating Peeta Mellark!!!!!_ , and Katniss had taken the bait.

Now, she was pregnant _(what?)_ , Glimmer was in rehab and she and Peeta had a nickname.

_Double what?_

She reached for her phone, scrolled through her address book and called the one person she knew she could talk to about this, even if she didn’t particularly want to. She tapped her fingers nervously on her knee as she waited for what felt like forever for the line to be picked up.

“Hello, this is Peeta.”

“So I’m pregnant?” _No hello, no preamble, no nothing._

There was a rustle of movement down the phone line, a soft thud. “What? Katniss, are you reading gossip columns?”

She felt her bottom lip stick out in a childish pout. “Maybe.”

“Don’t.”

She closed her eyes, leant back far enough that her head hit the back of the sofa. “I had to.”

“No you didn’t, Katniss. Unless, of course, someone held a gun to your head and made you.”

“Ugh, do you have to be so damn literal?” she snapped. “Fine, no I didn’t haveto. But Prim saw a news article, and because she’s still completely and utterly enamored by the idea of us ‘dating’, she wanted to find out if we were going into the studio together. When I asked her where she heard that, she told me that we were all over the Internet.  So I go to have a look, but I not only see that article, but I find out that I’m pregnant, Glimmer is in rehab and we have a ‘couple’ name.” She realised her single handed air quote was lost on him over the line, but it didn’t stop her from doing it anyway.

When he replied, she could practically hear the smile creep article cross his face - the amusement was clear in his voice. “Well, I can tell you now that that’s a false, a true and we do?”

“I already know the first one is false,” Katniss retorted, eyes flicking open to glance down at her decidedly un-pregnant belly. “Remind me next time we have a dinner 'date’, to take my own jacket.”

“I was just trying to be a caring boyfriend by making sure you were warm.”

“Yeah, yeah.” She rolled her eyes. “And Glimmer is true?”

“That’s what I’ve heard,” Peeta replied. “I don’t know what for, but whatever it is, at least she’s getting help.”

“True.“

"So…what’s our name?”

Katniss blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Our couple name.”

“Oh. You mean you don’t know?”

“Katniss, I read zero percent of the articles written about me, and I pay Portia, my publicist, a crap load of money so I don’t have to worry about it. So no, I don’t.”

“Oh.” She drew her legs up until they were against her chest and she could rest her chin on her knees. “Well…they call us Everlark.”

“Hmmmm.” She heard a scratching sound, vaguely wondered if he was rubbing his hand against the ever permanent 2 day growth that shaded his jaw. “It’s pretty.”

Katniss snorted. “Pretty?”

“Better that than they combine our first names,” he countered, and her brow furrowed as she combined their names in her head. What was so wrong with - _ohhhhhhh._

“Ew,” she replied, wrinkling her nose.

Peeta laughed. “So yeah. It’s something we can both deal with, I think.” The end of his sentence was punctuated with a yawn, long and loud.

Katniss glanced at the clock on her living room wall. “Geez, Mellark, it’s not even 7pm.  Are you on grandpa time?”

“Sorry,” he apologised. “I didn’t sleep much last night.”

An odd feeling coursed through her belly, and she felt her spine stiffen. “Spending some quality time with a real girlfriend?”

“Katniss, you’re the only girlfriend I have,” he deadpanned.  "No, I stayed up late working.“

She was surprised at how quickly - and oddly - the relief came. "New songs?”

“Something like that,” he agreed. “Anyway, I’m going to go and take a grandpa nap. Remember we have that party for Capitol tomorrow night.”

She felt her lip curl up almost involuntarily. “I haven’t forgotten.” _No, she definitely hadn’t._ It had been on her mind non stop for the last 4 days, since Plutarch had told her in no uncertain terms that she’d be attending - and on Peeta’s arm, no less. It was the first time they’d be in public together where the intention was to socialise and to - for lack of a better term - 'dote’ on each other.

She was fairly certain the whole charade would unravel tomorrow night.

“Good. I’m about as excited as you are about going - I hate them, I feel like I’m being paraded about for the high and mighty - but if we grin and bear it, we might just get through it.”

“Yeah okay.”

“Alright. Goodnight Katniss.”

“Goodnight Peeta.”

********

Later that night, Katniss lay in bed, her body exhausted but her mind wide awake. Of all the stupid headlines she’d seen about herself, the one that had bothered her most had been the 'childhood sweethearts’ one. Because while it wasn’t the truth, it wasn’t _exactly_ a lie, either. And she wondered what kind of person from their hometown would stoop so low as to sell a story that would, ultimately, be less grounded in fact and more in high school whispers and gossip.

Would their story be about how the future homecoming king and the lonely outcast had been paired together for an assignment junior year? How over the course of a year he’d managed to break through the carefully cultivated walls she’d put up, how she’d found herself falling for him even when she hadn’t wanted to? How, when she’d struggled watching her mom’s depression overwhelm her, she’d never tell him, instead bottling it inside until she thought she’d break? How even though he’d begged her to share her worries, she’d always told him no, that she was better dealing with things on her own?

Maybe they’d tell the short version, the one where he’d asked her to Prom 'as friends’, and she’d agreed, even though Prom had never been her thing and it meant she’d have to buy a dress. The one where, at the end of the night, she’d hinted to him how much he’d come to mean to her, only for him to look at her with such confusion on his face that she’d fled home without another word. The one where she’d never called, and neither had he, and their friendship had fallen apart.

She wondered if they were the stories they’d tell.

Katniss doubted it.

********

“Katniss, I love your sound. You’ve got a terrific voice, it’s so unique!”

She wasn’t entirely sure who this woman with purple hair was, but Katniss smiled automatically at the compliment. “Thank you,” she replied simply, sipped at the glass of champagne she held. And wondered how much longer she had to be there for.

The party was being held in the hippest club in town, Tesserae, and the who’s who of Panem’s celebrity scene was there. Low slung black leather couches, sheer white drapes hanging from the ceiling, huge arrangements of red roses, tables grouped with hundreds of candles - _a fire hazard, if she ever saw one_ \- and glittering chandeliers lent a surprisingly expensive and elegant air to the room. Katniss, in her simple black dress and the sling backs she’d reluctantly borrowed from Madge, felt decidedly under dressed and out of place compared to the designer clad pop princesses scattered around the room. Peeta, meanwhile, in his stone grey slacks, black dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair artfully and carelessly styled, looked like he’d been born to work a room.

For someone who hated this kind of thing, he sure was good at it, she thought, as he clapped popular running back Thresh Carter on the shoulder and smiled widely. He didn’t need her and their fauxmance to be one of the most talked about people in the room. He just was.

Refusing to acknowledge the admiration for him that bloomed slightly in her chest, Katniss tuned back into Purple Hair, tried to focus on whatever it was she was saying.

“I heard that song of yours on the radio in a café yesterday, and I swear every person there stopped to listen!”

“That’s definitely not true,” Katniss countered.

The woman batted at her arm playfully. “Oh, don’t be so modest! I’m telling the honest to god truth!”

“Ahhh well, I can vouch for that.” Peeta’s smooth voice broke into their conversation before she even saw him, and she turned slightly to see him grinning at her.

“And you were there, were you?” She said sarcastically, then remembered what she was meant to be doing. “ _Sweetheart_.”

“Of course I wasn’t, I was with you.” He turned, smiled at Purple Hair. “But I know the first time I ever heard Katniss sing, even the birds stopped to listen, and I knew I was a goner right there and then. So I definitely think you’re right.”

Purple Hair immediately began batting a hand towards her face, as though warding off tears.  "Oh my, that is just the sweetest thing! It’s so refreshing to see a young couple find their way back to each other, and in such a cynical and hard industry as ours.“

"What can I say?” Peeta said, smoothly sliding an arm around Katniss’ waist. “She’s one in a million. But if you don’t mind, Allegra,” _(Allegra? Who?)_ “I’m going to steal my lovely girlfriend away for a quiet moment.”

“Of course! I must go and catch up with Atala anyway. So lovely to see you darling.” The woman air kissed him on both cheeks, finger waved at Katniss, and sashayed away on heels that made her look ten feet tall. The moment she was out of earshot, Katniss pulled herself out of Peeta’s embrace, her grey eyes bright with embarrassment.

“What kind of sob story is that? Geez, Peeta, if we don’t have our background locked in, we won’t be able to keep it all straight. What if she’d asked me about that? It could have screwed everything up!”

He shrugged, though she could see something akin to nervousness on his face. “You could have played dumb. And actually…it’s not a sob story. It’s the truth.”

She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest. _Goner? What exactly did he mean?_ “Oh really? And when was this moment when you realised you were a 'goner’?” _How ridiculous._

His cheeks, normally pale and dusted with just a smattering of freckles, coloured a light pink. “The first week you arrived at District Twelve High.”

Her mouth dropped open. “What? In ninth grade?”

His free hand rubbed at the back of his neck, and he looked down at the floor. “Yeah. You…you thought you were alone in Ms Seeder’s art room, but I was in the storage closet, putting away some art supplies. I don’t know why you were in there, but you were and you were singing to yourself. And the windows backed onto all those trees, which were always filled with birds. The only time I ever heard them be silent was that day. And…I was gone. For you.” He glanced up at her, and she could see the hesitancy on his face. “Sorry. That probably just freaked you out.”

Not just freaked out. Absolutely, 100% gobsmacked. _Holy shit. He meant it._ “Are you lying to me?” She muttered.

“I would never,” he replied, just as quietly.

They stood there a moment, silent, the air around then suddenly thick and cloying. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“You wouldn’t have wanted to hear it,” Peeta said, and she knew he was right. But…

“Then why did you turn me down on Prom night?” The words she’d been holding onto for over a month - _no, for 8 years_ \- burst forth, and she felt her cheeks burn.

“What?” His brow furrowed in confusion, his eyes clouding with uncertainty. “What do you mean?”

“Prom night! You know, where we went 'as friends’ and when I told you I liked you, you turned me down?” This was not the conversation she’d expected to have tonight - or ever. But it was almost like she couldn’t stop herself. Ever since she’d fallen asleep thinking about it the other night, she’d needed to know.

“That never happened,” Peeta replied firmly, shaking his head.

“It did! I-”

“Katniss! Peeta! How wonderful to see my favourite couple!” Caesar walked up to them, arms wide and welcoming, enveloping them in a three person hug. His voice hissed in their ears as he drew them close. “You need to at least act like you like each other. You look like you’re going to bite each other’s heads off.” Then he pulled back, his own smile wide. “I’ve heard rumors, Miss Everdeen, that those new tracks you’ve been laying down are marvelous.”

Katniss shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs of a night 8 years ago. “I, uh, thank you.”

“Must be all the inspiration Lover Boy here is giving you, correct?” He winked lasciviously, and Katniss felt her stomach twist.

“Must be,” she murmured.

“And we love it! Your next album will be amazing, we just know it will. Don’t you agree, Peeta?”

Katniss glanced towards him, noted that any of the discomfort and awkwardness that had been showing on his face minutes before was gone. “Of course,” he said smoothly. “I’ve always had faith in Katniss’ talent.”

Caesar kept talking, laughing in his over exaggerated, almost hysterical, manner, but Katniss couldn’t stop looking - s _taring? glowering?_ \- at Peeta.

“That talk isn’t finished,” she mouthed.

“I know,” he mouthed back.


	4. Chapter 4

“And here’s to another fantastic year at Capitol Records!”

Caesar Flickerman’s enthusiastic voice rang out across the room to a round of applause, hoots and hollers, and he raised his arms as though in victory, his smile wide and almost maniacal.

Katniss rolled her eyes.

Caesar’s speech had been the final official part of the evening, at a party that she’d already stayed at later than she’d intended, and definitely _way_ later than she’d initially wanted to. She hadn’t really had a choice, though. She’d had to mingle, had to chat, had to stay for all the formalities.

For all the PR bullshit.

She and Peeta had circuited the room numerous times, and while he’d continued to schmooze comfortably with everyone, she’d still been completely and utterly out of her comfort zone. Plus, their earlier conversation had remained on a loop in her head, until she thought there was a pretty good chance it was going to be embedded in there forever.

 _I_ _was a goner._

At one point in the evening Plutarch had swooped in and taken it upon himself to escort her from musician to actor to talent manager to entertainment reporter, giving her the type of ‘artist attention’ she’d never expected. She’d always known the record label had liked her as an artist, had been happy with the small level of fame she’d managed to achieve. But this…this was something entirely different. She was being paraded around for everyone to see, being whispered about as the _Next Big Thing_. Which - while a little overwhelming and unexpected - was fine, she supposed. It was the _Next Big Thing with the Fabulous Boyfriend_ label that was bothering her. Or, more specifically, the 'boyfriend’ himself.

_What did he mean by it never happened, anyway? She wasn’t stupid. She’d been there. In person. Had LIVED it, for crying out loud._

_She remembered her prom night finishing like every 80’s prom movie nightmare._

“Hi guys.” She heard him before she saw him, felt his arm slip around her waist before she’d had a chance to brace herself for it. She felt herself flinch slightly before she willed her body to relax at Peeta’s touch. “Sorry, I got stuck by the canapés for Caesar’s speech.”

“A good place to be caught,” Katniss joked, forcing a smile through teeth clenched tight with nerves.

“Too true, too true! Because when Caesar starts talking, who knows when he’ll be finished!” Plutarch laughed, winking for the benefit of the two journalists they’d been speaking with before Caesar had begun. He tipped his head towards Peeta in recognition. “I suppose I should let the two of you mingle together again for a little while now though, shouldn’t I? Can’t keep Katniss to myself all night!”

“Actually, Plutarch, I was thinking of sneaking away with Katniss a little early this evening.” She felt Peeta’s head dip slightly towards hers as though he was going to press his lips to her temple, then stop a hairsbreadth from her skin. “Katniss will be holed up in the studio quite a bit this week, and we’d like some…well…”

“Don’t say another word, my boy!” Plutarch said jovially, and Katniss could see the calculated approval in his eyes. “We completely understand. Go, go, I’ll entertain our guests.”  

Before she could even murmur a lackluster goodbye, Peeta was quickly guiding her away, his hand splayed lightly against her left hip, while her right butted up against his. They were close enough, as they wound their way through the crowd, that they aligned from shoulder to thigh, and Katniss felt the heat emanating from Peeta’s body, the warmth and comfort that was a reminder of a short time in her life. She hated that it still made her own body flare, and set her blood to thrumming, much like it had back then.

_No matter what he tries to tell you, Katniss, it absolutely happened._

Peeta didn’t say a word to her as they navigated their way out, though he nodded and smiled and exchanged salutations with people as they passed. He winked and smiled beguilingly at a few joking comments about their early departure, though his jaw tightened and his eyes froze over at a couple that were verging on the overtly explicit. Katniss couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose at their leers, and the audacity of their words.

“I hate that side of the industry,” she muttered, turning the corner behind Peeta towards the exit, and tossing a look back at the group of guys who’d seen better days. "They can get so egotistical.“

"Yeah. I hate it too.”

He fell silent again, and as they pushed through the back door of the venue, Katniss immediately spotted their town car - it wasn’t hard to miss, seeing as it was highlighted by the constant popping and flashing of cameras of the paparazzi against the darkened night.

She didn’t think she’d ever get used to this.

They hurried to the car, Peeta moving in front and allowing his arm to slip from her waist, his hand instead linking with hers to guide her. She kept her eyes down, focused on the path in front of her, ignored the shouts of Peeta’s name, and the few calls of hers. And welcomed the silence the moment the driver closed the door behind them, only their slight breathing and the faint purr of the engine breaking it.

The minute the car pulled away from the curb, Peeta’s hand left hers, and he slid to the far side of the seat, putting what felt like miles between them. And before she had even half a second to recognise it or realise it was coming, the car was filled with an awkward and pregnant tension that she _really_ should have expected.

It was silent for most of the ride home, Katniss’ hands twisting nervously in her lap as she stared blindly at the driver’s headrest in front of her. Peeta had been so much like _himself_ all night - even after their revelations - that the change in him once they’d gotten in the car was almost absurd. Part of her wanted to bring their conversation up, to help ease the awkwardness; the other part wanted to forget about it completely. But-

“There’s only going to be one stop tonight, Andrew.”

Katniss’ head shot around as Peeta’s voice broke through her thoughts, glanced beside her to where he was slumped down on the other side of the backseat. His gaze was fixed firmly out the window at the streets as they passed. "Only one stop?“ she asked, nervousness shifting into a tension that flooded her body until her spine felt like a metal rod.

He nodded, though he still didn’t look at her. "I think we need to talk sooner rather than later, don’t you?”

Katniss bit down on her lower lip, cracked her knuckles in her lap. “I didn’t mean tonight.”

“We can’t let it go any longer. We obviously have very different memories of that night, and we can’t afford…”

“Can’t afford what?”

“Can’t afford anything to screw this up.” He kept his voice low, so that the driver couldn’t hear the words that were being spoken between them over the soft crooning of Frank Sinatra on the radio.  "And if we’re walking on eggshells around each other because of something that happened in high school, it’s going to cause problems.“

"It was already there, Peeta. We just avoided it, pretended it didn’t exist,” she murmured, and he nodded.

“You’re right. And it was the wrong thing to do. We should have talked about it at the very beginning.”

Katniss glanced out the window as she felt the car begin to slow, noted they were on her street as opposed to his. “My place?” she queried, surprised, and shifted back to face him. This time he turned, and she was shocked at the fatigue she could see in his eyes, in the grey shadows that underpinned them, the way the blue seemed about ten shades duller.

“You would have been dropped off first, it only makes sense. Is Madge going to be home?”

“No.” _How convenient_. “She’s out of state with her boyfriend until tomorrow afternoon.”

Peeta nodded and closed his eyes, took a deep breath as the car pulled to a stop. “Alright then. Let’s go.”

********

She’d never expected to see Peeta Mellark in her apartment again.

He’d spent one short afternoon there, early on in their charade, where they’d awkwardly sat in her small living room, sipping on glasses of lemonade and locking in pieces of information they figured people would ask them about in regards to their 'relationship’. It had been…weird, to say the least, and she was certain they’d both breathed a sigh of relief when it had been over. So no, she’d definitely not expected him to be here again. But he was.

And lemonade was definitely not going to cut it for this conversation.

Katniss yanked open the refrigerator door, bent slightly at the waist and studied the contents. “I’ve got vodka, a white, beer, and I know there’s a red in the pantry.”

“What’s the beer?”

“Stella, it looks like. Madge’s boyfriend is a bit of a fan of Belgians.”

“That’s fine.”

She plucked two of the bottles from the shelf, popped the tops quickly, and slid one across the kitchen counter to Peeta, where he’d pulled himself up onto one of the small Ikea stools. They both raised their bottles to their lips, took hearty sips.

And then silence reigned supreme.

For a while Katniss thought they’d never talk, that she’d be able to avoid the conversation just out of sheer nerves and silence. Of course, Peeta had never worked that way, not for as long as she’d known him.

“I think you need to tell me again what you think happened on Prom night,” Peeta finally ventured, fingers scratching at the red and white label on the bottle in his hands.

“I don’t think I need to,” Katniss replied indignantly, her shoulders immediately stiffening. _On the counter offensive straight away._ She placed her bottle onto the counter with a sharp clink. “I said it all earlier.”

“Well I think you do,” he argued. “Because what you said earlier makes no sense to me. You said that on Prom night you told me you liked me, and that I turned you down.”

“And that’s exactly what happened.” Katniss folded her arms across her chest, beer forgotten in a wave of 8 year old embarrassment. “I don’t need to say it again.”

Peeta opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “Right. Okay. But do you remember what I told _you_ tonight?”

_How could she forget? Ms Seeder. Art class. Goner._

She curled her lip. “Oh, I remember. And that’s why what you did that night makes no sense to me. At all.”

“Because it didn’t happen like that!” The words burst forth from him as though they were a dam breaking, and his hand dropped back to his lap. “Katniss, I practically poured my guts out to you tonight about how head over heels I was for you all through high school, and all you can tell me back was that apparently I was an asshole to you on Prom night!”

“You were!” She shot back, arms flinging out so her palms slapped on the counter. “I had to run away that night with my tail tucked between my legs! It’s no surprise though. Even if they can make it to friends, there’s no way the homecoming king and the social pariah could ever have been more than that. How could I have been so stupid?!”

Peeta’s eyes widened, and he reached up to tug at the blond waves at the crown of his head, letting out a little growl of frustration. “I’m so damned _angry_ with you right now.”

“Me?” Katniss rolled her eyes. _Anger, she found she could do so much better than hurt._ “Well why don’t you grace me with your version of prom night, Romeo? Then we can be on our way with all this PR relationship bullshit. We’ll call it off. Not even Prim’s medical school is worth this hassle.”

“Fine!” He slugged down another gulp of beer, and this time when he looked at her, the fatigue from before was gone, and his eyes flashed with life. “I asked you to Prom as 'friends’, Katniss, because you never would have gone otherwise. You might not think it, but I knew you, and I knew it was the only way I could get you to agree. I got to know you those last couple years better than most of the friends I’d had since elementary school, even though you shut me out of some of the most important things in your life.”

“My mom-”

“I just wanted to help!” He interrupted her, not letting her get a word in. “I could see it eating away at you, and you just refused to tell me about it, every time. So I left it, figured that you’d share with me when you were ready.”

“This has nothing to do with prom night,” she pointed out, ignoring the guilt that wanted to rise at his words. That, at least, was the truth. He’d tried so hard, and she’d shut him out of it every time.

“We got in my car after prom finished,” he said firmly. “While everyone else was getting trashed or checking into a hotel so they could bang until the sun rose. Not us. We drove through town, singing along to the radio as I took you home, and my head felt like it was going to explode because you were singing beside me, and you never did that, and your voice was still like…magic. I can’t even tell you what songs they were because all I could think about was how amazing you sounded, and how good you smelt and how incredible you looked and how damned nervous I was about telling you I liked you, and hoping it wasn’t going to completely fuck up the night."

This time his eyes burned into hers as he looked at her, and she was shocked to see the grief there. "And we pulled up to your house and suddenly you were sitting there telling me how at least there was one good guy to graduate from our class and how you were glad I wasn’t a dick like Logan Marvel and how you were _really_ glad we were friends and how I made school so much easier for you to handle the last couple of years. And every word of love I’d had on the tip of my tongue faltered because it hit me you were just telling me how good a _friend_ to you I was.”

“That’s not what I was saying!” Katniss contested hotly, her cheeks flushing and her mind reeling from his recounting of the night she’d hated with a passion for so long.

“Well that’s what I was hearing!” Peeta rose, turned in a half circle. “And then you looked at me, confusion all over your face, then practically ran from the car. Suddenly it was like I’d never existed. You never called me, never spoke to me again.”

“You never called me either,” Katniss retorted.

“You stormed off first.”

“You said nothing to everything I told you!”

“You told me nothing!” This time he shook his head, planted his hands on his hips. When he finally spoke, his voice had lowered considerably. “I went to see you a week later, but you’d left for Georgia earlier than you’d planned. Haymitch was at your house, told me it was better off if I just left it, not to drag it out. I didn’t know then what he meant, but I just…accepted it. So I went to college, met Finnick and Annie and never expected to see you again. I guess now Haymitch’s words make sense.”

“He never knew I liked you,” Katniss snapped, but there was a worry welling in her stomach. _Had she really not been clear with him? She’d practiced her speech so much before that night - words had never been her thing, and she’d so badly not wanted to get them wrong. But maybe…oh god, maybe she still had._

“Katniss, growing up even I was aware at how astute Haymitch Abernathy was. He would have known even if you hadn’t."

"But…but why would Haymitch say that to you?”

“He was looking out for you, I suppose, obviously thought I’d turned you down, hurt you. It doesn’t matter anyway.” He ran his tongue across the front of his teeth. “I think, looking back, that night maybe shows us what neither of us wanted to see at the time.”

She inhaled sharply. “Wh-what do you mean?”

He shrugged. “We were both wanting to tell each other how we felt that night, and we failed miserably. Communication is important, and if we couldn’t even do that, then maybe it was the right thing to happen. Maybe it was, I dunno, the universe telling us we weren’t meant to be.”

The welling worry burst into a full fledged panic that she didn’t even completely understand, and she waved her hands in denial. “No, Peeta, no, you didn’t fail. I didn’t even give you a chance to say anything that night. I ran away.”

“And I let you. I could have told you, Katniss. I had a week to go to you, and I didn’t. My pride and hurt stopped me.” The way his shoulders slumped told her the annoyance, the anger, the frustration that had been fueling him, had all but disappeared. “We might have had different versions of that night, might have been hurt for different reasons, but in the end, we both failed.” He shoved his hands in his pockets. “I think…I need to go, catch a cab. I’ll call Plutarch in the morning and cancel the contract. I’ll pay whatever fees they had drawn into it in case it ended prior to the agreed terms. I don’t want you to worry about that side of things.”

He reached for the jacket he’d draped over the second stool, shrugged it on heavily as though it were made of lead. And with each step he took towards the door, Katniss felt the panic rise inside her until she was worried it would pour out of her mouth in incoherent noises.

“No!” She suddenly called out after him, waited until he’d pivoted slightly on his foot to look at her. He did nothing but lift an eyebrow slightly in query. “Don’t. We…we can do this. I promise. We’ll just…we can. I need to. For Prim. Okay?”

He stared at her for a moment, before slowly nodding. “Okay, Katniss. If that’s what you want.”

“It’s what I want.”

“Then I’ll see you in the studio on Monday.”

She nodded in reply, then watched in silence as he opened the door and closed it again after stepping out into the hall.

Slumping against the counter, she exhaled deeply, ran a hand across her face. Something told her that the reality of that night was something in between both their stories, and in hearing his side, something _else_ inside of her had shifted.

And it had shifted dangerously close to an edge she’d walked away from a long time ago.

********

“Sources say the re-release of Katniss Everdeen’s single _The Valley Song_ could see her finally knock Thirt33n off the top of the charts. They might be making different music, but it looks like the country is just as taken by the raven haired beauty as they are by our number one boy band! Now back to you in the studio, Claudius.”

Katniss stood in the doorway to the living room, watched as Madge sprawled across the sofa, a bowl of cheetos balanced on her stomach and a soda in hand as she watched the entertainment channel.

“You realise how embarrassing it is knowing you’re watching this, right?” She blurted, leaning against the wooden frame.

Glancing towards Katniss, Madge managed to yawn and shrug at the same time. “It’s kinda funny.”

“It’s really not.”

“You mean you don’t like hearing all the gossip about yourself?”

“Ha.” Katniss pushed at Madge’s feet and dropped into the now spare space at the end of the sofa, grabbed a handful of cheetos.  She popped a couple in her mouth before continuing. “What is it today? Triplets? I’m really from Canada and I’m just trying to get a visa?”

“Nope! Apparently Finnick Odair will return to The Mockingjays, but you’ll be replacing Annie Odair, who’s decided to leave the band.”

Katniss rolled her eyes. “Every damn day.”

“See?” Madge winked, turned back to the TV. “Kinda fun, right?”

“Hilarious."

She tried to focus on the show in front of her, studying the host with the weird blond perm who was now chattering about some upcoming blockbuster movie. It didn’t work, though.

All she could hear was Peeta’s voice from the night before.

"Madge?”

“Hmmmm?”

She picked at invisible lint on one of their bright green throw pillows. “Did…did you, uh, know Peeta, um, liked me in high school?”

Madge slowly turned her head, lifted an eyebrow incredulously. “You’re kidding me, right?”

“What? No.”

Madge put both the bowl and her drink on the coffee table, pulled herself up into a sitting position and drew her legs up against her chest. Her long blonde hair hung over her shoulder in a messy ponytail. “Peeta Mellark was completely, utterly, stupid sick head over heels for you from the moment you arrived at school.”

Katniss blinked. “What?”

“Katnissssss.” Madge drew the word out in frustration. “You asked, I told, don’t play dumb. I thought you knew too, and that’s why you guys stopped being friends or whatever. That he told you and you turned him down. Which I thought was stupid because I thought you liked him too, but you escaped so quickly after we graduated that-” she shook her head to stop her train of thought. “Anyway. You never really brought it up again, other than to curse him occasionally, so I didn’t see the point in asking for clarification.”

Katniss was still two sentences back. “Wait, you thought I liked him?”

Madge shrugged. “You were subtle about it, but living with politicians for parents made me pretty adept at reading people, believe it or not. Even as a teenager in high school, which is probably why you were my only friend. You had no pretenses, didn’t give a shit about my family status.”

“And he liked me.”

This time Madge leant forward and knocked Katniss on the side of the head lightly. “Hello? Anyone home? Because yes. And of course now I want to know why you asked.”

“No reason.”

“Bullshit.”

“Honest.”

“Katniss, you are the worst liar ever.” Madge twisted her body so that her legs were now tucked under her and her hands were firmly on Katniss’ shoulders. “Tell me.”

“No.”

“I will bug the shit out of you until you tell me.”

Katniss hissed, screwed her nose up. “You would.”

“Yeah I would,” Madge agreed, dropping her hands back to her sides. “So spill.”

Indecision warred for about another two minutes before Katniss sighed, and almost every word from her conversation with Peeta the night before got blurted out in a rush. And it gave her a burst of satisfaction to see Madge speechless when she was done.

“Well shit,” Madge finally muttered. “That was unexpected.”

“We just…had two completely different memories of that night.”

“And you completely screwed up.”

“That’s not helping!”

“But you did,” Madge reiterated firmly. “Your speech was the worst 'I like you’ speech ever. I can’t believe you never told me this before.”

Katniss folded her arms across her chest. “I thought my speech was okay.”

“You basically told him you were glad he wasn’t a dickhead.”

“He wasn’t - isn’t!”

“Yeah, but telling him he was better than Logan Marvel was pretty crap. You needed to say something along the lines of _'I wish we were banging in a hotel right now.’_.”

“Oh my god, no,” Katniss whispered, horrified.

“Well, you needed to say something a little more obvious. Though he has to shoulder a good chunk of blame for not just getting some nuts and telling you regardless. You know, caution into the wind and all that jazz. You were as bad as each other.”

Katniss stared at Madge for a moment before dropping her head into her hands and groaning. "It’s such a mess.”

“It doesn’t have to be, not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…you both just have to apologise to each other, agree to leave all that shit behind, do what’s best for you both. Try to be friends to get through this fake stuff. Then once it’s done, at least you’ve buried this miscommunication hatchet.”

Katniss lifted her head slowly, chewed on her bottom lip. “We could. That’s right. We could.”

Madge tipped her head to the side. “But…”

“But? There’s a but?”

“You don’t want that.”

Katniss’ grey eyes widened. “Of course I do!”

“No you don’t.” Madge hopped to her feet, crossed to the buffet and opened the top drawer. She waved above her head glossy pieces of paper with a slightly torn edge and an obvious crumple to them.

Katniss felt her heart sink.

“I found these the other day. Squirreling away pictures from my magazines of the two of you? And what photos they are, Miss Everdeen. My my, look at your face.”

“What about it?” But Katniss already knew what Madge was going to say, what she was going to insinuate. She felt it lock in her throat, and she struggled to inhale.

Madge waved the photos again. “Your face in these is practically screaming _'I love you Peeta Mellark! Let’s make dark haired, blue eyed babies together!’.”_

“Shut up!” Katniss demanded, and she knew if she looked in a mirror, her face would be bright red.

“Deny it,” Madge challenged.

“I…I…shut up!”

Madge nodded slowly, approvingly. “Good. I’m glad you admitted it, even if it was in a roundabout way. At least now we can do something about it.”

“Do something? We? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t leave you to this on your own, Katniss. You need a little help to…spread your wings a bit more.”  

“I’m already doing that, with work,” Katniss argued.

Her friend nodded in agreement. “You’re right, you are. But you’re gonna need more than just that. You want Peeta Mellark, don’t you?”

_Yes. No. Yes. No. Maybe. I don’t know. No._

_Yes. Oh god._

_She always had._

“Yes,” she finally said meekly.

Madge grinned. “Good. And we have three weeks before that stupid movie premiere you guys have been contracted into attending, right? So we need to get to work.”

“Work? The premiere? What does that have to do with anything?” _Damn, she was so confused right now._

Madge crossed the room and tossed the glossy pages on Katniss’ lap. “Yep, we’ve got work to do before that premiere. 8 years later, Katniss, you’re finally going to find the right words to say to him. And if his face is any indication in those pictures, he’s not going to say no.”

Katniss glanced down, scrutinized Peeta’s face in the half dozen photos. It didn’t tell her anything, but apparently Madge could see something she couldn’t. She frowned doubtfully. “He won’t?”

"Definitely not,” Madge grinned with a firm nod. “I guarantee it.”


	5. Chapter 5

The final strains of the guitar faded away, and Katniss opened her eyes, lifted the earphones off of her head and hooked them around her neck. She looked at the musicians around her, then towards the two-way glass that housed the mixing booth and her music producer.

“Well?” She asked nervously. They’d just done a final run through of the song she’d only finished four days before, the lyrics and melody dashed out in less than a few hours.

“Katniss, you were on fire with that one! Amazing!” Her long time producers' voice echoed through the speakers in the room, and she breathed a sigh of relief. “I can’t believe you wrote that in just one night!”

“I, uh, was hit pretty hard with some inspiration,” she admitted, thinking back to the night of her and Peeta’s argument, and the reveal of their interpretations of Prom night.

“You need to get hit harder more often, girl. This is magic.”

The door to the mixing booth opened, and Cinna - _no last name required_ \- stepped out, crossing the room and wrapping her in a two armed hug. He grinned down at her, his gold-eyeliner rimmed brown eyes shining with pride. “Didn’t I tell you all along you were destined for the big time?”

“You know I was never looking for that,” she muttered, and he just shook his head.

“Sometimes what you get isn’t what you were looking for,” he said knowingly. “Just like this song. You were looking for your next single after _Valley Song_? Katniss, I think you’ve got it. This is _it_.”

Pride welled inside of her, followed quickly by embarrassment. Cinna had always been one of her most ardent supporters, ever since they’d first met back in Georgia in Studio D12 after she’d fled her hometown. He’d taken her under his wing almost immediately, had been instrumental in her getting the eventual deal with Capitol. His involvement in her future recordings had been one of the few things she’d ensured had been included in the ‘Dating Contract’, and she couldn’t imagine ever being in the studio without him.

It still didn’t mean his enthusiastic praise was something she was necessarily used to.

“Ahhh, shit, did I miss it?”

Katniss looked up to see Peeta enter the studio, a disappointed look on his face; she felt her stomach flip stupidly, and her heart beat funny. Much like it did every time she saw him now.

“You did,” Cinna confirmed. “But that’s okay, I can play it back for you-”

“ _No!_ ” It was long, drawn out, almost as though the more she emphasised it, the more it would mean. But Katniss knew the moment the word left her lips, it would sound suspicious, and she was right. Everyone in the room turned to look at her, a combination of surprise, confusion and hurt - _that one surprisingly from Peeta himself_ \- on their faces. Cinna quirked an eyebrow, his eyes searching hers, before he turned back to Peeta.

“I think Katniss wants to save this to play for you later, when you’re on your own. Isn’t that right, Katniss?”

Her mouth dropped open - _what the hell was Cinna doing_? “Uh…”

“Hey, that’s fine,” Peeta said, schooling his face back into a picture of agreeability. “Sounds good to me.”

“Those first few songs you play for a lover are always a nerve wracking time,” Cinna said smoothly. “I can understand why she’d want to play it for you alone.”

_Lover? Oh my God._

“Can we, uh, just take a break?” Katniss blurted. “I need to go to the bathroom or...something.”

Cinna nodded, and she quickly fled from the studio, shutting herself in the bathroom down the hall and slumping against the closed door.

Over the last two weeks, she and Peeta had managed to fall into a semi-regular routine where they went out socially, went to the studio together to work (albeit on separate projects), got caught on supposedly secret 'dates' out to places like Arena Beach and Seamer Valley, and had achieved a ceasefire where they agreed to put their past behind them, to be ‘friends’. Mostly, it was working - finally they'd gotten to a place where they could have a conversation with each other without being weird.

Except Katniss certainly felt weird because every time she looked at him, she felt 17 again. 17...but with a hell of a lot more of a dirtier mind.

But she still hadn’t found those ‘right words’ to say.

"Katniss? Are you in there? Are you okay?"

The knock, and Peeta’s soft voice, came from the other side of the door, and she startled.

"Uh, yeah, yeah, I'm here. I’m fine. I'll be out in a second."

She quickly crossed to the counter, blasted the water and splashed her face before turning it off again with a swift flick of her wrist. Studying her face in the mirror, she noted her pale pallor, along with the few pink spots that dotted her cheeks. They’d come to be her norm recently - Peeta, and the nerves she had around him, had brought them out in her.

She wondered if it was a red flag to everyone else that she'd finally realised - and admitted to herself - how she felt.

Taking a deep breath, she moved back to the door, unlocked it to see Peeta leaning against the frame. Concern was clear in his eyes.

"You feeling alright? You were looking kind of pale in the studio."

"I'm fine," she attempted to reassure him. "Just, er, probably a little tired from rehearsing and recording all day."

He nodded. "Yeah, I know how that feels. I'm sorry I missed your session though. I got sidetracked."

"It's okay." And really, it was. It had been Caesar’s idea that Peeta sit in on some of her sessions - after all, he’d pointed out, the staff there were none the wiser that it was all a ploy, and they were used to 'significant others' popping by - and it had made her nervous to think that he’d watch her. As it was, she’d only finally laid down that new track because Cinna had told her Peeta wasn't there. Because the lyrics " _We both walked away, stubbornness and pride, A few words could have fixed our mistakes, instead we didn't even say goodbye"_ would have been a huge ass giveaway that the song was about them.

He didn't need to know about that just yet.

"To be honest, it was probably better that I wasn't there. I’m sorry if that whole scenario upset you; I don’t expect you to play those songs for me," he assured her.

"Oh." She reached up, tugged absently on the end of her braid. "I didn’t mean to sound rude or whatever. I just...I’ve just never really played my music to anyone outside of my production team until it’s all done and dusted."

“I understand. If your work means a lot to you, it’s hard to share it with others until you think it’s completely ready. I know where you’re coming from.”

Katniss nodded. “Yeah.” _Plus, it was kind of hard to share a song with someone when the song was about them…_

Peeta cleared his throat, shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “And I know things are still weird with us. So I know that doesn’t help.”

“No, no, things are fine,” she insisted.

He smiled at her wryly. “Katniss, you’re still on edge with me a lot, which I totally get. We said a lot to each other the other week, and I probably said more than I should have.”

“It needed to be said,” she replied firmly.

“It did,” Peeta agreed after a moment. “But I feel like I need to reassure you that we really _can_ be friends through this, okay?”

“Really?” _Okay, so he was reiterating them being just friends again. Obviously the final nail in the coffin of Madge’s hairbrained theory and plans._

“Yeah, really. We started this as...well, I wouldn’t say enemies, but we certainly weren’t getting along while we held onto all that old stuff. But I think as we close these final few months out, we can do it as friends. It would be better as friends, right?”

He looked so sincere, so honest.

 _So damn hot, it was ridiculous_.

“Sure,” Katniss finally murmured.

He smiled again, widely, with a hint of relief. “Okay, good. I’ve got some things to finish off upstairs, but I should be good to leave in about half an hour. We should probably go and grab a coffee or something somewhere before I drop you off at your place.”

Katniss nodded, then wrinkled her nose. “Actually, I’m starving; I always am after a session. Can we, uh, stop somewhere like…” She trailed off, embarrassment filling her.

“Like where?”

“In-N-Out?” Her voice was low, almost a whisper. She always had cravings for their burgers and fries after a recording session, but admitting that to Peeta felt weird.  “I know, I know, it’s not good for me, but-”

“Deal,” he agreed, pushing away from the wall with a laugh. “I could do with a burger myself, so In-N-Out it is. I’ll see you in the lobby in thirty.”

“See you in thirty,” she echoed, and watched him turn around and walk away.

She had to admit that she’d always enjoyed watching him walk away - it was, for sure, a damn good view.

********

“It’s him, isn’t it?”

Katniss stepped into the studio to find everyone gone but Cinna, who sat at the piano in the corner of the room, his long elegant fingers dancing lightly over the keys. The melody he played was something she recognised only because she remembered her parents playing it often when she was a child.

“Him who? What?”

He chuckled lightly, lifted his gaze to her. "The song. It's about Peeta, isn’t it?"

Swallowing heavily, Katniss crossed the room, slid onto the seat beside Cinna. "Yeah. It is."

"And he's the guy you left behind when you came to Georgia." This time, she could only nod, and he smiled slightly.  "I thought so."

"How?"

He stopped playing, lowered his hands into his lap. "The lyrics are pretty personal, and when he walked in today...your reaction just made me think. And then I remembered where Peeta was from and-" he cut himself off, reached over to squeeze her hand. "Well, I'm pretty intuitive."

Katniss closed her eyes and dropped her head to the edge of the piano with a sigh. "So it was really obvious? You think everyone knows?"

"Of course not," Cinna laughed. "Not everyone knows about your life beforehand, Katniss. Unless you told everyone else who was here about what happened back in school, they'd be none the wiser." Then his voice sobered. "But I'm guessing what happened back in school didn't exactly happen the way you remembered?"

"Haha," Katniss laughed drily. "The song says it all, doesn't it? We both fucked things up."

"But you fixed them," he said smoothly. "Because you’re back together now, so obviously you sorted things out."

"Yeah." Katniss opened her eyes and raised her head. She hated lying to Cinna, hated keeping the truth from him about what was really happening between her and Peeta. "We sorted things out."

"And you really like him, don’t you." He said this gently, softly, as though if he asked her too forcefully she’d get skittish and not answer.

Cinna knew her well.

"Yeah, I do," she said quietly, thankful she was at least able to be honest with Cinna about _something._

He nodded. "That's good to hear. I'd encourage you to let him hear that song, though. He probably needs to hear it before it gets released, if it's about him too."

"Yeah. I guess."

Cinna glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, a glint in them that hinted of mischief. "And ask him to share with you what he's been working on. It...might surprise you."

"What, he's writing songs about me too?" Katniss rolled her eyes, but Cinna simply smiled.

"Not exactly. But just ask him." He paused, and glanced towards the doorway at the sound of footsteps - Katniss followed his gaze to see Peeta framed in the doorway, a bright orange backpack slung over his shoulder.

"I'm already done - you good to go?" He asked.

Katniss nodded and both she and Cinna rose from the seat.

"Thanks, Cinna," she murmured, and he looked at her in surprise.

"What for?"

"Just...for being you," she said quietly.

He smiled. "You never have to thank me for that. Now go get one of those god awful burgers I know you always eat when we finish." He planted a paternal kiss on her forehead, and with a wink, playfully pushed her towards the door, and Peeta. "I'll see you Thursday for another session!"

********

_@mockingjaygirl13 - didn’t expect to see everlark at in-n-out, but that’s what happened on my tuesday night, omg!_

_@mellarklover - holy shit just saw peeta and katniss everdeen at in-n-out! So jealous of her right now #peetaisminebitch_

_@starsquad451 - just spotted katniss everdeen with a cheeseburger, a shake, and peeta mellark obvs for dessert. #lifegoals_

********

“Are you sure you’re ready for tonight?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.”

Technically, all three _were_ the answer she wanted to give. Katniss was dressed, and from a clothing attire perspective, she was ready - Prabal Gurung dress, nude pumps with heels higher than she’d ever worn, her hair in loose waves that tumbled effortlessly down her back. But the no and the maybe were more on the money, because she was 100% absolutely, ridiculously nervous.

She’d never attended anything of this kind of scale or size - the premiere was for the final movie in a wildly successful novel-to-screen trilogy - and the thought of spending a whole night in Peeta’s company was enough to almost make her break out in hives. The idea of being with him in such a huge spotlight and pretending to be a couple when they weren’t - _wanting_ them to be a couple when they weren’t - was sending her feelings into overdrive.

Madge sighed, smoothed at the thin shoulder strap of Katniss’ dress, making sure the fabric sat flush against her skin. “I know you’re nervous about tonight - it _is_ a big event.”

“It’s not just that.”

“I know it’s not just that. You’ve been on tenterhooks for the last three weeks because you haven’t said anything to Peeta yet.”

“I have _not_ been on tenterhooks," Katniss argued vehemently, despite knowing it was true.

Madge raised her eyebrow. “Yes you have. And seriously, with the amount of suggestions and recommendations I’ve given you on how to tell him, you could have told him ten times over by now.”

“None of them felt right,” Katniss retorted.

“Then you could have figured out your own way to tell him! I wanted you guys to _really_ be together by this premiere. Instead you still haven’t said anything.”

Folding her arms across her chest - which was kind of hard in the form fitting dress picked exclusively for her by Effie - Katniss glowered. Arguing with her best friend hadn’t really been on her list of things to do tonight, but it looked like that was going to happen anyway. “Look, I already told you he just wants to be friends. He’s made that pretty clear now, on numerous occasions.”

Madge rolled her eyes. “Yeah, only because he probably thinks that’s all _you_ want.”

“ _Or_ , he means it. That’s a perfectly reasonable explanation, and the most likely.”

"He told you he was a goner for you!"

" _Was_ , Madge. Not _is._ You know what past tense is! You were in Ms Jackson’s English class too, you know!”

“Oh for fuc-”

“Manners, Miss Undersee! A lady _never_ cusses.” Effie Trinket swept into the room, resplendent in a raspberry coloured sheath, her strawberry blonde hair twisted in an elegant chignon. She waggled her finger towards Madge, clucked her tongue in admonition. “Especially when she’s visiting Capitol Towers.”

Katniss and Madge shared a look as they tried to bite back their grins, their disagreement over Peeta immediately forgotten now that the whirlwind that was Effie had returned.

It had been Effie’s idea for Katniss to get ready for the movie premiere at the most stylish - not to mention most expensive - hotel in Panem. _Imagine the amazing photos I can post to your Instagram!_ she’d exclaimed, and seeing as Katniss neither cared about or maintained her professional Instagram, she hadn't bothered to argue. Social media was Effie's domain, and Katniss knew whatever wheels were already in motion had little chance of being stopped. So here she was on a Friday night, getting dressed in a designer dress that - while beautiful - was going to threaten to cut off all the circulation to her body, while Peeta got ready two rooms down.

"Alright, my dear, I just confirmed with Portia that they're ready, so we’re almost good to go. We have a big, big, big night ahead - it's your biggest appearance with Peeta yet, and we want it to go off without a hitch!" Effie brushed at an invisible piece of lint at the waist of Katniss’ dress and surveyed her with a critical eye. With an approving nod, she slid her iPhone from her own purse, and made Katniss and Madge pose together for a photo. “Darling, I’ll post this for you as soon as we’re on the road. Now let’s go before Peeta and Portia leave without us!”

Katniss nodded and grabbed the small, useless clutch that held nothing but a pack of tissues, a small tube of lipstick and some gum. "Okay, let's get this over with." She turned one last time to Madge, smiled slightly. "I'll see you when I get home. Don't stay up too late for me, Mom."

Madge smirked, drew her into a hug. "I know you’re nervous - but you'll be fine. And please, for all that is good and holy, if you get a chance to tell Peeta tonight, tell him."

"Madg-"

" _Katniss_ ," Madge drew back slightly and cut her off, making sure she kept her voice low enough so that Effie couldn't hear. "Please. You know you want to, and you've been miserable the last three weeks because you haven't told him how you feel. I just want the best for you, okay? And I really think that Peeta is."

Katniss pressed her lips together firmly before reluctantly nodding. Just because she said she would, didn't mean she’d actually get a chance to, anyway.

Extracting herself from Madge’s arms, she carefully turned on her 5 inch heels and tucked the clutch under her elbow. "Alright Effie. Let's go."

********

The limo ride had been uneventful - she and Effie seated on one side, Peeta and Portia on the other. While the two women had nattered relentlessly, she and Peeta had sat in awkward silence, occasionally catching each other’s eye, smiling slightly, then looking away.

With his stylish navy blue suit, white shirt with the top button carelessly left undone, and his rumpled ‘I just got out of bed’ hair, Peeta looked good enough to eat.

Madge had been right, that was one thing Katniss couldn’t deny. She _had_ kind of been miserable the last few weeks, knowing that she wanted him, and that she’d blown it. That they’d _both_ blown it 8 years ago, and now she was stuck with some stupid unrequited love for a guy she was contractually obligated to _pretend_ to love _._

Yeah. Love. She loved him. And damn if that wasn't a kick in the teeth.

She’d finally realised that her feelings ran that deep when, two days before, she’d spied Madge watching _Entertainment Panem_ , and had stopped curiously when she'd realised the story was one about Peeta. It had been a flashback to a piece about an art and music class for underprivileged kids that Peeta, Finnick and Annie had run the previous summer. Watching him on the footage - the way his voice was full of enthusiasm, the excitement that had filled his eyes, the careful way he showed an eight year old how to draw something as simple as a dandelion - had made her heart take that final tumble off the cliff she’d carefully constructed inside her head.

And all she’d been able to think had been _oops._

Flashes suddenly popped in front of her eyes, reminding her of where she was, and Katniss automatically smiled towards the line of photographers, placing her hand on her hip in the stupid way Effie had instructed her to. She’d walked red carpets before, but nothing like this. This was insane. This was huge. This was...a nightmare.

And she could hardly breathe.

“Hey, you doing okay with this?” Peeta murmured into her ear. She knew to anyone watching, it would just look like a whispered conversation between a couple, and she fixed what she hoped was a loving smile on her face.

“I’m fine,” She said through clenched teeth. _Damn, her jaw was going to die by the end of the night_.

“Are you sure?” His voice was full of concern, and she hated that it made her feel even more breathless.

“It’s just...my dress is stupid tight and I can hardly breathe...and it's my first time doing a movie premiere like this,” she admitted. _She certainly wasn’t going to tell him any more than that._

“Ahhh, of course.” They moved a few steps down the carpet, both taking the opportunity to turn their faces away from the cameras for a moment. “Well, I can tell you without a doubt that you look utterly amazing. Green suits you, Katniss." She blushed profusely, and he immediately noticed, clearing his throat nervously before speaking again. "And you’re doing fine, I assure you. Anyone would think you were a seasoned pro, and that we were real. Plutarch will definitely be pleased with our appearance tonight.”

“Sure,” she muttered, and fixed a smile to her face again as they paused for more photos, Peeta’s arm slipping back around her waist. With only the thin silk of her dress separating his hand from her skin, she felt like she was on fire, and her heart still stuttered wildly from his compliment. She wasn't sure if she was going to be physically capable of making it through this night.

Gauging where they were on the carpet, she realised the _Entertainment Panem_ crew were the next group over, and Peeta was obliged to speak with them - which meant they were going to be speaking with her too. “Just remind me not to say anything stupid to the interviewer. I tend to become a snarky bitch when I'm nervous.”

“You’ll be fine,” he reassured her again, and then his voice took on a joking tone. She remembered it well, one he’d always used back in school when he knew she was down, and he’d attempt to cheer her up. “And if you don’t know what to say...well, you can just kiss me. You can do that anytime you like, you know. We’re meant to be in love, after all.”

_What?_

Peeta obviously said it in jest - she knew he did, after their conversation at the recording studio and their understanding of ‘friends’, and from his tone - but her heart rate sped up as she realised that it gave her an opening. One to show that maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t just ‘playing along’ anymore. To do like Madge said, and finally find the right words.

Or the right _actions_.

_“I promise we’ll try and make it as cordial and painless as possible.”_

_“No kissing.”_

_“100% fine with me.”_

She was about to break her own rule.

“Peeta! Katniss! Over here! Over here! Look at us! Peeta!”

She ignored their catcalls, and rather than looking at the crowd of people in front of her, she reached up and rested a palm on Peeta’s chest, in what she figured was a clichéd red carpet couple pose. And when he turned to look at her in surprise, she leant in, and pressed her lips to his.

It took him a moment to respond, the shock evident in the tension in his back and shoulders. But she felt the minute he relaxed, the moment an approving murmur sounded in the back of his throat and his lips warmed to hers. They were soft and plump and tasted like cherries and temptation.

And then he was pulling away, his cheeks flushed and his pupils dilated.

“I, uh…” he trailed off, glancing behind him to see the _Entertainment Panem_ crew staring at them in giddy disbelief. He turned back to her, and he still looked like he was in shock. “I was kidding.”

“I wasn’t,” Katniss replied quietly, and took a step towards the barricade. It took him a beat before he followed her, but then his composure - and his brilliant smile - was back, and he was playfully bantering with the journalist.

Katniss barely heard a word that was said.

She figured Plutarch and Caesar would forgive her for a less than stellar interview.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm hoping the final part won't be too far away :) 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	6. Chapter 6

To Katniss, it felt like the red carpet would never end. It seemed endless; a line of photographers and journalists and publicists and who knows who else, all jostling for the best interviews, best angles, best exposure. And all the while, she had Peeta beside her, his hand either firmly pressed to her hip or the small of her back, or engulfing her own as he led her down the pathway, towards the doors that promised to deliver her to freedom.

She was strung as taut as a wire after the kiss but, as usual, Peeta seemed perfectly fine as he mingled and posed and conversed.

Finally, after what felt like hours, they stepped inside the theatre, leaving the news crews and paparazzi and screaming fans behind. Katniss let out a sigh of relief - the most nerve-wracking part of the night was over, and she could at least hide in the darkened theatre and not speak to anyone for the next two hours.

And then she glanced up and caught Peeta's eye.

_Alright. Maybe the most nerve-wracking part was yet to come._

"That went well," she said as flippantly as possible, all while her stomach felt like it was dropping out of the bottom of her shoes.

"Sure," he said smoothly. "You handled yourself really well."

"Thanks."

"And the kiss was a nice touch. It was pretty believable."

Her cheeks flared while she searched his face for sarcasm or recognition or _anything_. There was nothing.

"I, uh..."

"Did they ask you to do that?"

Katniss blinked. "Who?"

Peeta shoved a hand in his pocket, and while his voice sounded nonchalant and his face was expressionless, there was something defensive in his pose. "Plutarch and Caesar. I'm pretty certain you stipulated no kissing when we started this, so I'm just a little confused why now all of a sudden you're doing it for the cameras."

Her mouth opened and closed like a fish while she tried to figure out what to say. "I, uh, no. That was all me." She swallowed heavily. "I did it because I wanted to."

"You wanted to?" He quirked a brow in question, even while the line of his jaw tensed.

"Well I...actually, do we have to have this conversation here?" She gestured around them, and the people milling about waiting for the movie to begin. Even if the media were all outside, she knew there were plenty of loose lips in Panem - she could only imagine if someone overheard their conversation and word got out. "There's too many people around and they don't need to hear a whiff about the contract, you know?" He followed her gaze, taking in Panem's so called entertainment elite and nodded before tipping his head to the side, indicating towards an empty hallway to their left. She led him there without a word, then turned back to him the moment they were out of the crowd.

"So you did it because you wanted to?" Peeta repeated, leaning against the wall and folding his arms across his chest.

She nodded. "I told you I wasn't kidding. It made sense to do it." _Oh god, Katniss. It made_ _sense_ _? Are you a freaking idiot?_

"Did it?"

"I guess...I guess I kind of got carried away."

"Carried away?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." _Quit being vague and just tell him!_ "But, ah, mostly it was because I wanted to." She gripped her hands around her clutch, tightly enough that her knuckles were white with tension. _Oh shit, here goes nothing_. "I did it because I wanted to kiss you."

Peeta blinked once, twice, the long blond eyelashes tangling together with each closing sweep. Finally emotion was beginning to seep into his face, and more than anything else, it held confusion. "You...you wanted to kiss me?"

She shrugged, glanced away. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Why not?" Her eyes flit back to him nervously.

This time, Peeta pushed away from the wall. "Because you stipulated very early on that there wasn't to be any kissing as part of this arrangement. You even had it written into the contract - which I can remember Plutarch and Caesar being none too pleased about. And now suddenly you've changed your mind?"

"Things change," Katniss retorted.

"Like what?" He took a step closer to her, close enough that she could feel the heat emanating from him, could smell the heady cologne he wore that had teased her all the way down the red carpet. His voice had lowered, had an edge to it that hadn't been there before.

"Like feelings."

"What kind of feelings?" He pressed.

"I-"

The announcement overhead advising that the film was about to start burst into their conversation like unwelcome static, and both startled at the intrusion. From where they were, they could see people slowly making their way into the theatre itself, the occasional glance thrown their way in curiosity. It took everything inside her to stop from wiping her sweaty palms on the unforgiving silk of her dress, instead making do with keeping them locked around her clutch.

"We should go in," she muttered, not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that their discussion had been thwarted.

"No, I can't leave this conversation the way it is, Katniss," Peeta said firmly, determination clear in his eyes. "I can't leave it for hours like we did the other week at the party. We need to talk about this now."

"You don't want to see the movie?"

"Right now, I don't give a shit about the movie," Peeta replied with a shake of his head. "We only had to walk the red carpet. We can do whatever the hell we want to now. And I want to talk about this. I want to know what's going on."

Katniss breathed in deeply, knowing that if he wanted to talk about it, she finally needed to be truthful with him. There was no way she could last these next few months without telling him, and kissing him had only seemed to confuse things more. There was only one thing she could think of doing.

"Fine," she murmured, with an air of finality. _Time to throw that last bit of caution into the wind_. "Call Andrew, get him to come and pick us up early. We should go somewhere to talk, and I know where we can go without being interrupted."

His eyes searched hers for a moment before he finally nodded. "Okay. Tell me where you want to go, and we'll go."

********

"The studio?"

She could hear the doubt in Peeta's voice as the car idled outside the non-descript brick building on the corner of Victor and Tribute.

She fidgeted with the hem of her dress. "Yeah. I...there's no one here on Friday nights, and..."

He shrugged, reached over the front seat to tap the driver on the shoulder. "Andrew, just wait for us, will you? We won't be long."

"Sure thing, Mr Mellark," the driver replied agreeably. "I'll park in the garage, just give me a call when you're ready."

Both Peeta and Katniss stepped out, and - not for the first time on the drive over - she wondered if this was a bad idea. Was she really ready to play him her song? Was she really ready for him to know the truth?

Would she ever be ready?

"When you said somewhere we couldn't be interrupted, I assumed you meant your apartment or something," Peeta said quietly, keeping a significant distance between them as Katniss punched in her access code and waved absently to the night security guy.

"Oh. Well...yeah, that would have made sense. But I have something to show you before we talk."

"Here?" His tone screamed of incredulity, and she couldn't blame him.

"Yeah."

He followed her silently down the halls, past darkened studios and offices that, during the day, would normally be bustling. In the quiet night, it was almost eerie in its lack of life.

Moving into the studio she'd been using for the last 2 months, she headed straight for the sound booth. She knew how Cinna worked almost as much as he knew how she did, and signing into the computer in the corner of the room, she broke his password quickly and easily.

"This is not a side of you I expected to see tonight," Peeta said wryly. "Hacking computers and passwords."

"Cinna's used the same password for as long as I've known him. He might be a musical genius, but he's also organised as hell," Katniss muttered, scrolling through his files until she found what she was looking for. The moment she did, she paused, swallowing nervously. Her fingers rested gently on the mouse as the cursor hovered over the file on the screen.

"So what is it you wanted to show me?" Peeta lowered himself into the chair beside Katniss, rested his arms on the desk in front of him.

"I, uh...this." She glanced at the screen, waited until he followed her gaze.

"Is this one of your tracks for the new album?"

"Yeah. It's the one we just finished up before you came in the other day."

He reached up, ran a hand across the back of his neck as though he were nervous. "I told you that you don't have to play me your stuff, Katniss. I just want to talk about-"

"This will explain it," Katniss blurted, cutting him off. "I'm not good with off the cuff words like you are. I need practice and refinement, and I work a lot better when they've been written down. So please, just...listen."

Peeta dropped his hand back into his lap, nodded slowly. "Okay then."

Her finger shook slightly as she finally clicked on the icon that opened the file, watched as the mix populated on screen, the lines of audio just waiting to begin.

She closed her eyes, and listened to the recording of her own voice sing everything she wanted to say, but couldn't.

When it was done, the room was silent. She couldn't even hear her own breath, and it wasn't until she felt lightheaded that she realised she'd been holding it.

She exhaled heavily, opened her eyes. And when she looked at Peeta, his own were wide as saucers.

"Katniss...was that...was that about _us_?"

She lowered her gaze down to her lap. "Yeah. I, um, wrote it after the Capitol party."

"And it's about us."

"Yeah."

"And you meant the lyrics in there? You really meant them?"

Katniss didn't say anything at first, a lump forming in her throat as she tried to determine the words she wanted to say. And then she felt his hand curve around her chin, lifting her face so that she was looking at him.

_If I could do it all again, I would, but I'd find better words to say. Ones that told you how I feel, the truth, the feelings that never went away._

_The ones that only got stronger with time._

"Yeah. Yeah I did. I do."

She watched as his throat bobbed, as a muscle in his cheek twitched. "I, uh…" He trailed off, and while he didn't let go of the gentle hold he had on her chin, she could see the weakening of his shoulders as he started to slump in his seat, as his gaze lowered to the ground. And her heart dropped.

_Shit. How could she have been so stupid? She was never listening to Madge again._

"I'm sorry," she muttered. "Shit. Shit. I shouldn't have said anything." She jumped up from the seat, jerking out of his hold, quickly shutting down the computer so that Cinna would never know she'd been there. She was halfway out the door when she felt his fingers encircle her wrist.

"Katniss." His voice was soft, gentle, and she bit down on her lower lip. "Don't leave."

"Why not?" She snapped, refusing to turn to look at him. "I've just made a fool of myself in front of you. I should have known better."

"No." His voice was firm, no nonsense. "The last thing you've done is make a fool of yourself. I'm just a little shocked and surprised, is all."

"Don't try and make me feel better, Peeta." She'd just poured her heart out in song, and he was virtually shutting her down. She didn't need his pity.

"I'm not. But I think I need to share something with you."

She scoffed, rolled her eyes at the wall. "I don't want to hear your music right now."

"I'm not going to play you my music." He tightened his grip slightly, tugged so she had no choice but to turn around. "Come on."

"I just want to go home."

"Just five minutes. I came here for you, didn't I? It's only fair."

She scowled - _hadn't she made a fool of herself enough in front of him?_ \- before using her free hand to gesture him past her. "Fine. Then let me go home and wallow in my embarrassment."

"Katniss, you don't have to be embarrassed," he insisted.

"Whatever." She was now firmly entrenched in a place of wanting to be difficult.

He shook his head, moving into the hallway and guiding her behind him down the corridor, up a flight of stairs, to the second door on the right. Peeta reached into his pocket, pulled out a slim pair of keys and unlocked it; he grasped the doorknob before pausing. "Just don't freak out, okay?"

"What, like I could anymore than I alrea…" she trailed off as he opened the door and flicked on the light.

The room was full of her.

Well, not technically. But the wide wall opposite the door wasn't full of pinned up sheet music or scraps of paper with lyrics on them, like she had expected it to. It - along with the rest of the room - was full of drawings and artwork, some black and white sketches, others brought to life with paints or pastels or chalk. Of the streets of Panem, of far flung destinations she could only ever dream of visiting, of the dandelion-filled meadow two blocks over from their high school. Of people she saw every day - Cinna, Plutarch, Caesar, Portia - and people famous in the industry - Cressida Jones, Finnick and Annie, Johanna Mason. But more than anyone or anything else, she saw herself. There were dozens upon dozens of renderings of _her_ everywhere.

"What-what is this?" She stepped inside, crossing to the watercolour of the meadow, reaching up to touch it lightly. He followed her in, closing the door behind them.

"This is what I've been working on," Peeta said quietly. "When you've been in the studio, I've been up here, drawing and painting."

Her fingers traced the splashes of green, the streaks of yellow. "I thought you were working on new material."

"I am. This _is_ new material."

She turned to him slowly, the embarrassment and horror she'd been feeling less than ten minutes before draining from her, confusion taking its place. "I don't understand."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, rocked back slightly on his heels. "When I told you why I agreed to the contract, I said it was because Plutarch and Caesar agreed to help me with my career, if Finnick and Annie decided to make their hiatus permanent. They did - it was just my art career they agreed to help me with."

"What?" Katniss' mouth dropped open. "Your _art career_?"

Peeta shrugged, and this time his cheeks flushed pink. "They know art has always been my first love - I was forever drawing and sketching and painting whenever I could when we were on tour. It was one of the reasons they agreed to add an art component to a summer program Annie, Finn and I ran last year. They could see I had promise."

"Promise?" She shook her head. "Peeta, this is more than promise. These are amazing." His cheeks deepened to a darker shade of pink at her words. "But what if Annie and Finnick want to continue? What happens then?"

"Then we continue," Peeta said simply. "I love my life as a musician - playing the guitar often feels like just another form of art for me. But I need to make sure that I've got a life beyond that. Even if The Mockingjays stay around for another ten years, I'm going to need to do something with my life after that, you know? Either way, I know that Caesar and Plutarch are behind me."

"But if you're not a musician, what do they get out of it?"

This time, a faint smile curved the right corner of his mouth. "Plutarch and Caesar have their fingers in plenty of pies, trust me. At least, with this, I'm getting what I want either way."

Katniss' head felt like it was going to explode with all the new information. Here she was, thinking that Peeta had been working on songs for a new album - and instead, he'd been drawing and painting practically everyone in his life.

Including her.

She moved closer to the artwork, studying it all intently. The more she looked at the ones of her, the more confused she got. There was a difference in the ones he'd drawn of her to all the others. They were...softer, brighter, gentler, sharper, all rolled into one.

She felt his gaze searing into a spot between her shoulder blades.

"There are, um, so many pictures of me," she finally muttered. "I'm surprised."

"Why? I like to draw what inspires me," Peeta replied after a beat of silence. "I guess I just have an eye for beauty."

She tracked her eyes over to him, felt her stomach flutter. "Don't," she said quietly.

"Don't what?" He took a step towards her, and she took a step back.

"Don't try and make me feel better about before," Katniss reminded him, nerves creeping into her voice.

He stepped even closer until he was directly in front of her. "I'm not trying to make you feel better. I'm just trying to show you what you showed me, in my own way."

"And what's that?" She tried to keep her tone strong, unaffected. She failed.

This time, his voice was low, low enough that she had to strain to hear him. "I've never stopped thinking about you, Katniss. Not once, not in the last 8 years. It's always...it's always been you."

 _Holy shit_.

"You don't mean that."

"I do." He took another step closer to her, and this time, his hand rested lightly on the curve of her waist, drawing her in until their hips bumped. "These last two months have been a catch 22 for me."

"How?"

"Because I got to spend all this time with you, and had to pretend that I wanted you. Except that I really _did_. Badly." His free hand trailed up her arm, fingertips dancing across the bare skin. "I wanted you, and I thought you couldn't stand me. It's been driving me insane."

_This could not be real._

"This isn't real," she insisted, even as his arm began to slide around her, drawing her in even closer. The seemingly constant dull ache in her core that she had whenever she was around Peeta flared to life, startling and stunning in its intensity.

"It's very real for me," Peeta replied, his voice catching. "I promise. And from the sounds of your song...it's real for you too."

Katniss inhaled sharply, felt her chest press against his with the movement. Her stomach was now filled with butterflies, and she was fairly certain her heart was about to leap out of her throat and splat on the ground at her feet.

So she didn't even give herself time to consider the consequences.

Her arms slid up around his neck at the same time his mouth came crashing down on hers, a fierce collision of lips and teeth and tongues and 8 years of pent up need and longing. She pulled herself even closer, rising up on the tips of her toes so her elbows could rest on his shoulders and her hands could curve up and clutch eagerly at the top of his head, and the blond waves she'd loved from the moment she'd first sat beside him in the high school library. She felt the groan build up in the back of her throat as his hands slid over her hips, gripped the curve of her ass, and let it spill from her lips when the hard length of him pressed against her. She ground against him eagerly, encouraging his hands to tighten his hold on her.

"We can't do this here," she muttered, pulling away slightly, while his mouth moved to nibble at the junction of her throat.

"Do what?" His voice was muffled, and she could feel the vibration of his words against her skin.

" _This_ ," she sighed, even as she tipped her head back to give him better access to her neck. _It just felt so ridiculously good._ "We're meant to be fake; this isn't meant to happen."

At her words, he pulled back. The blue of his eyes had darkened to almost midnight, the pupils dilated with need. "Forget the contract, Katniss. This has nothing to do with that. It has nothing to do with anything but you, and me, and _us_."

"There is no _us_."

"Yes there is." He said the words forcefully, insistently, lifting his hands to cup her cheeks, his thumbs brushing the curve of her jaw. "I _want_ there to be an us. I always have. We made mistakes, we both did, and we both know it. But we've moved past that. I just...This should happen. It _needs_ to happen, if you'll allow it."

She stared at him, bewildered at the honesty and intensity in his voice. Even when she'd realised she'd wanted to tell him how she felt, even as she'd played the song to him, even as she'd admitted that the lyrics were about him, she hadn't expected this. Not in a million years.

But while she hadn't expected it, she wanted it. Wanted him. More than anything else.

"I'll allow it," Katniss murmured, surprised at how easily the words fell from her lips. "Just...not here."

"Not here?"

She allowed the smile to cross her face slowly. "We've got a perfectly good hotel room at Capitol Towers."

********

Andrew was, as always, discreet. He didn't comment once as they kissed and groped like teenagers in the back of the car on the way to the hotel, didn't even glance in the rearview mirror. He opened the door for them like they'd sat in the back like perfectly respectable adults, bid them a good evening like he always did when he escorted them around.

They walked through the lobby with a foot of distance between them, stole glances at each other as the rode the elevator to the twelfth floor, managed to walk responsibly down the hallway towards the room booked in her name.

And then the minute the door closed behind them, they leapt on each other, hands impatiently tearing at clothes, mouths branding each others, tripping over each other as they stumbled their way over to the bed, falling in a tangled heap onto the smooth sheets.

Katniss heard a seam rip, apologised in her head to Effie for ruining such a lovely dress. And then Peeta's mouth was making a trail down her neck, down her breast, over the hardened peak, and she didn't give a shit about the dress at all.

"I've dreamt about this for so long," Peeta murmured against her skin, his hands pulling the dress down until it draped around her waist. He rose back on his haunches, tugged the dress down the rest of the way until it slid past her feet and he could discard it on the floor. He looked down, eyes filled with desire raking over her desperately.

Then he was pulling her into his arms, and they were rolling over the bed, clothes being torn and stripped and thrown aside, bare skin flush against bare skin, curves and angles bumping and sliding against each other as sweat began to pearl and breaths began to pant. Her heart pounded eagerly against his, even while her legs wrapped around his waist, drawing him close, so impossibly close, that she didn't think she'd ever be able to let go.

"Katniss, I…" His voice was heated against her ear, his mouth sucking lightly on the lobe.

"Ughhhhh." She didn't even know what language she was trying to speak, only that whatever he was doing with his hands and his hips and his mouth was making her hunger for something she hadn't wanted in a long time.

"Can we-"

"Yes."

He lowered his forehead to hers, and they did nothing but stare at each other as the realisation of what they were about to do sank in. Without taking his eyes off her, Peeta reached for the pants he'd discarded on the edge of the bed, fumbled in the pocket for his wallet, and the thin foil square that it contained. Nerves thrummed under her skin as she helped him roll it on, as he slowly and patiently - as if he'd waited his whole life for this very moment - slid inside her.

They moved together in the dark, hearts racing, breaths panting, mouths groaning, as they dragged each other over an edge neither had ever expected to tumble over together.

An edge both knew they could never tumble over with anyone else again _but_ each other.

********

It was the ringing of her phone that pulled Katniss from sleep, the vibration echoing against the wood of the side table in conjunction with the faint strains of her ringtone. She cracked an eye open, propped herself up on one elbow to look at the screen.

Plutarch Heavensbee.

 _Well, this was to be expected_.

With a groan, she flopped back down, staring at the ceiling until the call cut off, sighing in relief when it finally did so. After the night before, the last thing she wanted was to deal with Plutarch and Caesar - she didn't want to think about anything but Peeta, and how things had forever changed between them.

Then she swore when her phone began to ring again.

"You going to answer that?" Peeta's muffled voice came from beneath the sheet; all she could see of him was a shock of sleep rumpled hair.

"It's Plutarch."

"And you're surprised?"

She reached underneath the sheet, poking him in the side - he twitched, slapping her hand away lightly with a snort of laughter. "Of course not. Doesn't mean that I want to speak to him right now."

"We need to get it over with sooner or later. We both knew they'd hear about it somehow." Peeta shifted so that the sheet fell away to rest just below his shoulder blades. His face was still partially smooshed by the pillow, and his eyes were heavy lidded and sleepy.

Katniss didn't think he'd ever looked better.

"Fine," she sighed, just as the phone cut out again. "Oh, what a shame. He hung up."

"Just wait."

Sure enough, within thirty seconds it was going off again. And this time, she reluctantly picked it up. "This is Katniss."

"Katniss, it's Plutarch. I've got Caesar with me. I think we need to talk."

She rolled her eyes. "Is everything alright?"

"I don't know, Katniss. Perhaps that's something you need to tell me."

"I'm fine."

"I'm certain you are." He paused, and cleared his throat. "We heard some...reports this morning."

"You did?" She didn't usually play coy, but she felt like it was appropriate right now. It wasn't like they'd done anything wrong, so she had no intention of feeling guilty, no matter how much Plutarch probably wanted her to.

"Don't play coy - you know what I'm talking about. This was entirely unexpected, and not something that we anticipated when we signed the contract."

Katniss glanced down at Peeta, felt the smile tug lightly at the corner of her mouth. "I don't think any of us anticipated anything, Plutarch." Peeta shifted closer to her, wrapping his arm around her waist as he strained to hear the other end of the conversation. She slid down until the phone was close to both their ears.

"I can't remember anything of this type of...clause being written into the contract, Katniss." Caesar finally spoke up, and she could practically see him tapping the tip of his chin with his finger as he spoke. She imagined they were in the main office at Capitol Records, gleaming city behind them, coffee pots and fruit platters in front of them.

"There wasn't anything in the contract, we know," she confirmed.

"And you also understand that, technically, the contracted six months ended two days ago. So I just want to remind you that there's no financial benefit or bonus attached to this kind of stunt, either."

Katniss grinned, and caught Peeta's eye; his own grin matched hers as he slid his hand down her free arm until it was twined with hers. He lifted their joined hands to his lips, and even in the dim light of the early morning, she could see the glint of gold against both their skin.

Peeta took the phone from her, held it closer to his ear."Good morning Caesar, it's Peeta. I believe you have some concerns?"

"Peeta, we're just wanting to make clear to both of you that there is no benefit for this. You didn't have to take this step. It goes above and beyond our requirements. I thought you understood this."

"I assure you, we're not looking for a bonus, nor are we looking for any additional financial benefits," Peeta said calmly. "And we took this step because we wanted to."

"I don't understand."

"We're in love," Peeta replied simply, and at his words, Katniss' heart did a slow roll in her chest. It still sent a thrill through her every time he said it, ever since that first time he'd murmured it to her, the morning after their first night together 4 months earlier. "And getting married is the last thing either of us would ever do for fame, I assure you. Now, if you both don't mind...I'd like to spend the morning, uninterrupted, with my wife. And we're not taking any calls for the rest of the day."

Katniss watched as he ended the call and dropped the phone to the floor beside the bed, then smiled as he winked at her and drew the covers over their heads.

A contract was one thing. Reality was another entirely.

It was _much_ , much better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading. I had a lot of fun with this - I'd love to hear what you think, either here or on tumblr. I'm there under sponsormusings :)


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